


Come Unstuck

by alwayswithatoneofsurprise



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha!Steve, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Violence, Multi, Omega!Bucky, Protective Steve, Tags will added if necessary, Violence, ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-03-18 14:25:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 51,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3572975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayswithatoneofsurprise/pseuds/alwayswithatoneofsurprise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale of two souls, drawn to each other and despite stubbornness, miscommunication and misguided alpha instincts, a tale of two idiots falling in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Imagination Infatuation

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I’ve never written anything with alpha/beta/omega dynamics in it, but I sorta totally feel in love with this universe, so I had to write this. I loved creating my own rules for their world. This story will be a few chapters long so I really hope that if you like how this is going you’ll leave me a comment :D 
> 
> There is no super serum, so Steve’s just a normal guy who Neville Longbottomed puberty. I am in total love with Nat and Bucky’s friendship, Sam and Steve’s friendship, and Clint and Nat’s relationship, so they will all have a big part in this story. Other marvel characters will pop up as the story progresses.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's technically not supposed to be placed on this floor, probably shouldn't even be in this residence hall, but Bucky's on scholarship and he doesn't want to kick up a fuss, so he shuts his mouth and ends up in Shield, the almost all alpha dorm .

“You need anything else?”

Sam hovers in the doorway, hesitant to leave, but really needing to be gone 5 minutes ago. Scanning the room, Steve makes a mental checklist of what he needs to do before turning back to Sam with a smile on his lips, fingers already itching to plug in his stereo and christen the room with his music.

Steve shakes his head, “Go, I’ll be fine, all I have to do is unpack.”

Bed made, books on shelves and clothes almost unpacked, Steve’s phone vibrates against the desk where he left it about one and a half albums ago. Catching the sound simply by the break between songs, he ignores the rest of his messages and only focuses on the new one, the eighth unanswered text sent by Tony,

_Check your damn email._

Steve sighs, it doesn’t surprise him, not at all, this is Tony after all. He doesn’t text back a reply; instead he boots up his laptop and heads off downstairs to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee first.

Twenty minutes later, coffee half drunk and his inbox open, he has deleted about 200 junk emails and created two new folders before he opens the email from Tony. The first line is dull run of the mill resident building notifications, nothing of interest, nothing worth Tony sending him and specifically him. Knowing Tony and wanting to find out what rules, if any, are placed on spending time on the roof, Steve keeps reading, still unsure as to why Tony sent him this in the first.

Steve reads along the email purely to find out what the rules are on spending time up on the roof.

And then he reaches it, the reason that Tony had sent this to him, and he groans.

He read the email once, spilt his coffee all over his lap and then read it twice, then a third time just to make sure that it wasn’t a joke, just to make sure he wasn’t still asleep and imaging it. This wasn’t supposed to be legal. This shouldn’t happen, and fucking hell it pissed Steve off. Maybe more than it should have, but oh well, he’d gotten into fights over far less.

He didn’t know the man, but that wasn’t the point, he shouldn’t have been placed on his floor, he shouldn’t be allowed to be, it wasn’t safe. Omegas were not traditionally allowed in the same resident buildings as alphas, and at the very least they were not allowed on the same floor. But this year, there was an exception. The exception that proved the rule perhaps, but Steve didn’t care about that, he cared about the name on the screen in front of him, one James Barnes, moving in to his residence building, on his floor, right across the hall from him.

He isn’t really sure how Tony knows, but Tony knows every bloody thing of interest that goes on so he isn’t really surprised. Personally Steve wants to kick up a fuss, but two hours later when he mentions it to Tony, Tony shakes his head vehemently and tells him that no, he absolutely cannot. Bucky, not James, is on a scholarship and he was shafted to Steve’s residency hall, since the exclusively omega one was already over capacity. Blue the only floors of omegas in Steve’s building are full, and the rest are alphas, there are no beta in this building to switch with Bucky, and Bucky doesn’t want to draw attention to himself, doesn’t want to kick up a fuss, so Steve shuts his mouth and mutters under his breathe whenever Tony’s not listening.

Steve checks out the omegas room the day before he’s scheduled to move in, and is satisfied by the new door someone placed in, its heavier than the others, with a pretty hefty lock that Steve figures would be hard for even an alpha in rut to break. The walls are thick, and the alphas on either side of him are both bonded, Steve knows that for sure, he felt like a fifth wheel when the five of them went out for drinks the night before last. Plus the room has a small ensuite, something that Steve’s room doesn’t have, it’s the only one on the floor, and Steve’s thankful for that. He doesn’t even want to imagine the omega attempting to shower when he’s in heat, surrounded by alphas. He practically snarls at the thought, and ends up running for an extra half hour that evening, leaving Sam collapsed on a park bench, to just keep running, trying to clear his head.

He’s not pleased, not pleased at all that an unmated omega will be moving in onto a floor full of alphas. Not pleased that this omega will be in danger, will be putting himself in danger, or more so put in danger because he’s on scholarship  and not in a position to make a fuss. Steve wouldn’t have hesitated to make a fuss for this guy, but Tony and Sam very firmly told him no.

**…**

It isn’t until the day before the first day of classes that James, or Bucky as a voice kept yelling out exasperatedly, always followed by a chuckle and then a wince, as Bucky presumably elbowed the chuckler in the ribs or someplace else, moves in. Just showered from after his morning run, Steve pulls on a clean shirt and wonders whether he should open his door and greet his new neighbour and offer to help out. His phone vibrates and instead of meeting the unmarked omega that he can hear laughing out in the hallway, he spends twenty minutes talking to Sam.

“Steve?” Sam repeats. Steve isn’t really sure that he is repeating himself, but from Sam’s tone and the way his name is twisted by the amused smile that Sam is probably hearing right now, Steve is sure he’s zoned out just a little bit.

To be fair, it isn’t really Steve’s fault. His windows shut, and he is leaning against his front door now, unable to avoid the smell of glazed apples with a hint of raspberry liquorice which is seriously distracting him right now.

Reluctantly pushing himself off the door and heading towards his bed, Steve shakes his head and asks, “Uh, yeah?”

“Moving day huh?” Sam chuckles.

Flopping down on his bed, Steve tries to work out what Sam means. He lasts a few seconds, before he’s once against distracted by the smell of apples and has to ask, “What?”

“James.”

Steve rolls his eyes and ignores Sam chuckle at the intake of Steve’s breath. He may be an alpha, but he doesn’t react like this, a little, but not like he is now. Instead of asking Sam what it is about his new neighbour that is so fucking enticing he settles on, “Shut up.”

“Go over and introduce yourself.” Sam suggests after a minute. It’s the polite thing to do, something that Steve very much wants to do, but right now, he knows that it is probably not the best idea, for a few reasons.

Namely one that includes his lack of control over his tongue in certain situations, something that he is very aware of, and something that will Sam doesn’t tease him for it, does find it amusing on occasion. “And stammer what? He, hel, hi, I’m uh, Steve, Steve Rogers, that’s uh my name, I’m, hi.”

Sam laughs so hard, Steve stops trying to get anything else out of him after a few minutes and just hangs up on him, drops his phone on his bed beside him and covers his hands in his face.

No longer keen on going to meet the man who is making Steve act like he never really has before, Steve hides out in his room.

Another twenty minutes goes by, and he’s torn. Curiosity and his manners want him to go out and offer to help him, but there’s something else that he can’t quite put his finger on that is making him utterly sure it’s for the best if he stays in his room. It’s the same something that is making him pace the room, making him cover his nose to escape the smell of apples and liquorice when Bucky lingered in the hallway outside his door for a few minutes longer than Steve thought was strictly necessary.

About an hour after hanging up of Sam, Steve had thought he probably should go out a visit, but he just wanted to give him some time to settle down first. No longer content with pacing the room, Steve attempted to tidy his room, an attempt that lasted all of five minutes before he gave up and collapsed onto his bed.

By the time Bucky was demanding that someone called Barton shouted the three of them dinner, Steve had his face buried in his pillow, no longer able to ignore Bucky’s scent seeping under the door, no longer able to ignore the way his body was reacting to it, and was left hoping that Bucky doesn’t have exceptionally sharp hearing.

**…**

Steve lasts two days before burying his head into his pillow again to muffle his moans. He managed to spend most of yesterday either out with Tony or at lectures or running with Sam or studying in the library, and by the time he got home just a little before midnight, the hallway didn’t really smell like a certain brunette omega, instead it smelled of number 23’s pizza.

Getting up early this morning, Steve has already gone for a run with Sam, handed in an essay, attended a lecture and talked Tony out of buying some dumb giant ass teddy bear for his one year anniversary with Pepper, by the time he’s humming along to his music at his desk, halfway through the pages he has to read before tomorrow, when it hits him.

He’s not smelled anything like him. He isn’t really sure what it is about Bucky, he’s not sure at all. Many hot sweltering afternoons spent in class, and Sunday mornings spent in church, and hours spent in a hospital bed, but after all those people, all those omegas and mixed scents, but Bucky’s is different.

For a few years, Steve had just assumed that he wouldn’t be like most alphas, he was different to them growing up and even after puberty he didn’t act the same as the other alphas around him, something he’d just sort of gotten used to by now.

Steve knows he doesn’t smell like most alphas, he isn’t surprised, not with how small and sickly he was as a child, who no one had been expected to an alpha. His scent wasn’t overpowering, or commanding like the others, he smelt like rain and chopped wood, with a dash of vanilla that always make Tony moan about how he wanted cupcakes whenever Steve was a few days out of a rut.

Unlike Sam, he’d never really had much of a reaction to a passing omega, not even really one in heat. Well that was true, until two days ago. Now, the ocean blues of Steve’s eyes are almost gone, his breathes coming hard and fast as he barely holds on for a few more seconds, holding on until the door shuts behind Bucky and his friend ‘Barton’ who are laughing as Bucky complains about how he almost ‘broke his fucking ankle sparring with her’. Steve doesn’t think who her is, and ignores the scent of the other omega in the hall, focussing on Bucky’s, as he thanks the God his mother believed in that Bucky didn’t think to shower at the gym.

**…**

A few days pass and Bucky continues to be the unmarked omega in the dorm right across the hall that Steve hasn’t technically met, but a few days after he settles in, he sees Steve in the hallway. Most of the time Steve waits for him to leave before he does or leaves before him, he can smell his scent when he’s in the hallway, it seeps under his door and almost makes his delirious with want. It is instinct he knows it is, but that doesn’t mean that he can act on it. So he just avoids Bucky.

But that morning Steve is running late, spent too long in the shower, thinking about Bucky, and he’s close to his rut, he can feel it he only has another few hours to go. And he can smell glazed apples and red liquorice, Bucky’s heightened scent and he knows that Bucky is still a week or two at most from his heat. It’ll be almost impossible to resist him when he’s in rut and Bucky’s in heat, the pheromones won’t give him a choice, that won’t happen this time, but god, he can’t let that happen ever, especially since he doesn’t even actually know him.  He’s seen him, has heard his voice but he hasn’t actually introduced himself to him and yet he is sure he probably won’t be able to resist him.

“Hey, I’m James Barnes, uh but you can call me Bucky.” Bucky introduces himself to Steve as he locks his door behind him. He introduces himself like Steve doesn’t already know who he is, like he isn’t the only omega on the floor, like he isn’t the topic of conversation everywhere at the moment.

Steve pauses for a moment, staring at the brunette in front of him, the brunette who is unfairly gorgeous and god, is fair too enticing for 7am. Blinking, he realises he hasn’t spoken yet, so he hurriedly smiles and says, “Hi Bucky, I’m Steve Rogers.”

“Do you want to maybe-” Bucky starts, one hand slipping into his pocket, the other pushing back his hair in an almost nervous gesture, that makes Steve really wish his answer didn’t have to be what it was.

“Sorry but I’ve uh, got to go.” Steve almost runs down the hallway leaving a both confused and disappointed Bucky in his wake. When he thinks Bucky can’t see him he covers his nose, breathing in his own scent as he tries desperately to block out Bucky’s, he can barely think straight as is, and with the revelation that Steve can already almost notice the slight change in Bucky’s scent based on his mood.

Steve is about to lose his fucking mind.

**…**

He would have lingered, wanted to linger, but not when he’s almost in rut. He already knows that he can’t trust himself around Bucky, not this close to his rut, not when Bucky smells so damn enticing, not when he is an unmarked omega with a smile that would make Steve’s legs shake if he let himself think about it in the hallway instead of high tailing it out of there.

After a lecture, Steve heads back to his room for a few minutes before all but running down the hallway and out of the building, not stopping until he was almost at Sam’s, a nice place on any other day but a safe haven on a day like today. He’s in rut now, and he needs to get away from Bucky. He doesn’t know much right now, but that he knows for certain.

Door locked, Steve pulls out his key, not bothering to knock, and just having enough wits about him to lock the door behind him before he falls back against it, the thud of his back on the wood, is enough to bring Sam down the hallway, still oblivious to Steve’s shift in demeanour since the last time he saw him just yesterday.

“Dude did you-” Sam starts, playful smile on his lips and a cup of coffee in his hand. A cup of coffee that he instantly lifts to nose, takes a deep breath and takes a step back from Steve as he asks, “What?” Eyes scan Steve’s tense shoulders and settle on his expression before it clicks, and Sam is taking a sip of his coffee before waving his hand towards a closed door down the hallway, “Oh, shit, yeah, spare rooms all yours, you know that.”

Sam may a friend, his best friend, and he is used to his scent, but that doesn’t mean that he wants to smell Sam all over the room, his room really, when he’s in rut. So Sam never enters the first spare room, the beta cleaner that comes once a week does, but otherwise, it’s just for Steve. Bag that was hastily packed dumped on the ground, Steve collapses onto the bed, burying his face into his pillow.

**…**

His rut passes in three days, just like it usually does.

He pretends not to notice that he thought of only one omega for three days straight. Tries to ignore that each time he came one name spilled from his lips. It’s never been like this before, well for him at least. Curious as he is, he doesn’t ask Sam. Doesn’t ask him if it’s odd he only has one brunette omega on his mind.

In all honesty he’s not really surprised that he has no clue, he doesn’t really know anything about being an alpha. When he was younger, his rut would last barely a day and was often mistaken for him being sick again. It made him pale and grumpy, made his skin splotchy in places and it harder to breathe. But now, that isn’t the problem. The problem now is that he’s an unbonded alpha. Sam’s his best friend but he still doesn’t interact with him much when either of them are in rut, it’s safer that way.

“Dinner?” Sam calls, a smile on his lips telling Steve that his coffee date with Maria went better than nervous Sam had expected before he left a few hours ago.

Out of his rut Steve would have given him  a pep talk, tried to calm his nerves, but holed up in Sam’s spare bedroom just a few hours after his rut unofficially finished, Steve had simply yelled out, “Goodluck man, you’ll be fine!” and turned back to the lecture his professor was live streaming.

**…**

Not trusting himself, not at all, Steve spends an extra few nights at Sam’s, mostly holed up in the spare room, taking his classes online, watching the lecture videos and sending in his assignments without actually leaving Sam’s place. Part of him knows that he is being a little ridiculous, he’s not even in rut anymore, but Steve still doesn’t’ trust himself, or his instincts. He doesn’t know the omega across the hall, nothing more than a name, but he wants to protect him, and that feeling mixed with his scent messes with his head on a normal day, and he just wants to make sure he’s not at risk of allowing himself to  his instincts.

Over breakfast, toast unfinished, Sam looks up from the paper that he buys every morning after his run, still refusing to just read news online, and starts, “As much as I enjoy you’re company, you cannot keep hiding out here to avoid-”

“I’m not avoiding anyone.” Steve huffs, eyes staring at his muesli, hoping it might offer up some agreement. After a few seconds, Steve sighs and takes another mouthful of muesli as he meets Sam’s gaze.

Already not liking the smirk curling Sam’s lips, Steve likes the words that come out of that mouth even less, “That’s not the way Tony tells it.”

Steve just rolls his eyes, and stares down at his muesli, takes another bite and asks Sam about what he’s planning for his date with Maria this afternoon. Sam gives him a look that tells Steve they aren’t done with this conversation, but he drops it and talks about Maria until he has to head off.

 

Lecture in the morning and three hours spent at the library, Steve pulls his phone out of his pocket and texts Tony and Sam. He knows Sam will probably be nervous for his date with Maria, and will need Tony and him to talk him down a little, and somehow Tony always knows the best places to eat. Plus he hasn’t seen Tony since his rut hit. Tony may a good friend, but he’s still an omega, and even though his scent doesn’t do anything to Steve ordinarily, he doesn’t risk it.

 

After lunch with Tony and Sam, Steve heads to an afternoon lecture. On his way home, he swings by Sam’s, picks up his bag of stuff, and heads back to his dorm. The room is a little stuffy so he sets on opening the windows, before heading downstairs to put on a load of washing.

**…**

At first Steve thought it would be best if he left for Bucky’s heats, but a week and a bit after he returns from Sam’s Bucky is in heat. His first heat in the building, and Steve’s first time truly experience actual hell. Out for an early run and not returning until long after midday, Bucky’s scent is already seeping into the hallway by the time Steve reaches his floor. Hand covering his nose, blocking out the smell of glazed apples that makes him lose his mind, Steve unlocks his door and all but slams it shut behind him. Locking his door behind him, he collapses onto his bed, head buried in his pillow, trying to block out some of Bucky’s scent, which is even more unbearable than it usually is.

By the second night of Bucky’s heat, Steve is seriously considering just going to Sam’s. He can’t really study, not when he’s almost too hard to focus, not when all he can think of is the brunette across the hall. But he quickly discovers why staying in the building is for the best.

Steve’s nerves already far higher than usual, everything else on high alert, every protective instinct on high, which he knows is ridiculous. He doesn’t actually know Bucky, but Bucky isn’t his mate, he has barely spoken to him, and yet he can’t help but feel a pull.

Even with beta pheromones hanging by the door, trying to mask the smell of Bucky’s heat and give Steve some time to actually finish this damn essay, he can still smell it, can smell another Alphas scent, strong and overpowering, smelling like cigarettes and bourbon as it seeps unwanted underneath Steve’s door.

It takes Steve all of about three seconds to rip open his door, finding Rumlow outside of Bucky’s door, lingering in the hallway several doors down from where he is supposed to be. Steve doesn’t need to ask to know what he’s doing, he’s waiting to corner Bucky, and Steve just sees red.

“Get the fuck back to your room.” He growls, rumbling deep in his throat as he shakes the fist that has just left an already darkening bruise on Rumlow’s left cheek.

He earns a glare but nothing more, Rumlow raises his hands and smirks, backing off down the hallway, Steve watching each step he takes, makes sure that the door is shut behind him before he lets himself slump back against the wall, eyes on Bucky’s door, wondering how he is going to survive this fucking year. Honestly he’s surprised that Rumlow didn’t hit back, but he can worry about that another day.

What Steve isn’t aware of, is that Bucky is on the other side of the door, hand pressed against the metal, having crawled out of bed when Steve’s pheromones seeped under his door, obscuring Rumlow’s scent that made Bucky want to hurl and also throw himself at Rumlow, something he isn’t in deep enough to not be disgusted by. What Steve isn’t aware of as his eyes linger on Bucky’s door, hoping he is safe, that Bucky heard Steve’s fist connect with Rumlow’s face. He doesn’t know that he is reeling in the protective scent that Steve isn’t even aware that he is emitting, and has his hand palming at his boxers as he closes his eyes and smells Steve all around him.

Fingers running through hair, Steve sighs, both pissed at Rumlow and wishing that his first year of college could be less well, whatever this was. Part of him wonders if maybe Bucky wanted Rumlow to be lingering out there for him the hall, a thought that doesn’t sit well with him, so instead of staying in the hall any longer, Steve heads back into his room, pulling the door shut behind him, just missing Bucky’s whimper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know how I did on my first go with alpha/beta/omega dynamics.
> 
> Not gonna lie, I was and still am really nervous about posting this, so feedback would be really great.


	2. Best I Can Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They actually talk in this one!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I said there would be an explanation for ruts and heats and a few other a/b/o dynamic terms and I am working on that for the next chapter, but for now hopefully this makes some sense... (the rules are slightly different for each writers own world, so these are mine.)
> 
> Alphas have ruts, Omegas undergo heats and Betas have neither ruts or heats.  
> Ruts for unbonded alphas last for 2-3 days once every 32 days.  
> Heats for unbonded omegas last for 4-7 days once every 32 days.  
> Bonded alphas and omegas have their ruts and heats in sync and can last about 8 days. Some alphas and omegas can be in sync without being bonded, but that is rather rare, and happens to extremely close alphas and omegas. (also some omegas and alphas would sync up simply because of no reason, but their heat/rut wouldn’t be 8 days, it would be the norm and syncing is purely coincidental) 
> 
> (I will be adding up more, facts I guess, about my a/b/o universe, in particular and also general things as they are applicable)

No one mentioned the smell that none of them could avoid. Not once did Steve even hear so much as a mutter about it as he walked down behind a few of them on their way to breakfast. Steve was sure Rumlow probably glanced down at Bucky’s door whenever he was in the corridor, but everyone else seemed to ignore it, eyes flitting to the floor for a second as they walked past the dark red door, holding their breath for a few steps and then carrying on their conversations without pause.

Steve found himself hovering by his door for longer as he tried to find his keys, fingers stilling for seconds too long. Bucky was obviously trying to hide his scent, lessen it a little, using some form of beta scent, something that worked on a normal day, but did nothing now he was in heat. A sound came from the dorm only a few steps away from Steve and he hastily pulled his keys from his pocket, needing to get away from what sounded like a whimper.

Locked in his dorm, and face buried into his pillow only a few seconds later, Steve sighed, selfishly hoping that Bucky would be on suppressants by the time his next heat came round. But he knows he won’t be, not if the omega is on scholarship like Tony said. He’s heard Darcy complain about how hard suppressants are to purchase and almost impossible to buy. He’s heard her complaining about how less and less doctors these days are approving suppressants for omegas, and apart from the black market, omegas need prescriptions to buy suppressants that don’t have a chance of killing them. It makes him mad, but there’s nothing he can do.

Steve stays there, lying in his bed for ten minutes before heaving a sigh and standing up. Knowing he won’t be getting any study in his dorm, distracted by the scent of glazed apples and red liquorice, Steve grabs his bag and his laptop and heads down the library, already setting an alarm on his phone as he heads down the staircase two steps at a time, making sure that he’ll be home by nightfall. He doesn’t know the omega, nothing really but his name, but he’ll be damned if some ass like Rumlow manages to break down his door or coerces him to open it when he’s not really in the best frame of mind around any alphas at the moment.

**…**

After their first meeting, Steve doesn’t actually talk to Bucky again for another week or two after he went into heat. Steve sees Bucky around campus, smiling and laughing, and sitting silently working on something. But he doesn’t talk to him. His scent still seeps underneath his door, whenever Bucky lingers in the hallway for longer than usual, and Steve lives for those moments. Ignoring the part of his brain that tells him that he shouldn’t be this lost on an omega he barely knows, Steve just closes his eyes and waits for the heightened glazed apple and red liquorice scent to fade just like it always does.

It isn’t until Steve wakes up a little earlier than usual, runs a little faster than usual and ends up not realising that by the time he is dressed and ready to leave, that Bucky hasn’t actually left yet, that he sees the omega again, or more importantly the omega sees him. He manages to be locking his door when Bucky’s door swings open.

The omega pauses, eyes widening for a second as his eyes rest on Steve. He looks nervous, smells nervous and Steve smiles at him, bright and genuine, desperately trying to make up for their last encounter, “You heading down to breakfast?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky still looks nervous, and Steve feels the need to apologise, needs to give him a reason for literally running away from him the first time they met. So he settles on something that wasn’t that far from the truth really, “Sorry about last time, I was running late to a lecture and well any other professor would be okay but not Fury.”

Bucky chuckles, nervousness dissipating as he smiles, sliding his hands into his jacket pockets after dropping his key into his bag. “Fuck, can’t be late to Fury, he’ll shred you alive.”

Steve laughs, and Bucky grins, scent wrapping around Steve and he doesn’t let his body react the way it wants to, the way it needs to.

“Can we start again?” Steve asks, a little awkwardly as he smiles at Bucky, really hoping that he’ll say yes. Bucky scans his face, looking for something in his expression, and he must find what he wants because he relaxes a little and smiles back, outstretching his hand towards Steve.

“I’m Steve, Steve Rogers, and uh,” Steve pauses, knowing that he should say more, that he wants to say more. Unthinking, he bites on his bottom lip for another second before he says, “I have a crazy sweet tooth and sing along to my music sometimes, I lie, I sing along most of the time, loudly and off key, so sorry in advance for that.”

_Sweet tooth? Really?_

Steve scolds himself, although he is a little proud of himself that he managed to avoid spilling out that he loves red liquorice, but Bucky has got to know what he smells like by this point, and Steve really doesn’t want to make this second introduction more awkward than the first.

Bucky doesn’t seem fazed, he just grins, and clasps Steve’s hand. “Hi, I’m James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. I’m the only omega on this fucking floor and I’m probably more than a little co-dependent on my Netflix account.”

Steve laughs, still shaking Bucky’s hand for a moment longer than necessary before he realises that their hands are still holding each other’s and he reluctantly lets go, letting his arm drop back to his side before he adjusts his bag strap and asks, “So breakfast?”

**…**

The next week passes a little differently from the last.

Steve loiters by his door for about twenty minutes every morning. Bag packed and ready to go, he paces his dorm room, checking his emails and replying to texts, while he waits for Bucky to come out of his room. He doesn’t like to think of it as ambushing him, but he just isn’t sure if they’ve reached the stage of their relationship that Steve can just knock on his door and tell him they’re going to breakfast.

A few days later Bucky steals Steve’s phone while Steve is moaning about some essay that he rushed to finish, had stayed up all fucking night the last before last to finish and his professor hadn’t even bothered to look at yet, after specifically stating that they had to hand it in on time or risk getting kicked out of the class. Bucky ends up taking a series of selfies, before handing it back to him.

So it isn’t until Steve checks his phone when he’s lounging in the park next to Sam and Maria, Maria who is working on her tan and complaining that tanning is not something her skin seems to like to do, and how she can’t look like a vampire for the whole of the oncoming winter, that Steve discovers what Bucky was doing. All but one of the selfies were deleted, leaving a picture of Bucky’s smiling face.

Assuming Bucky put himself in Steve’s contact list, Steve flicks down to B, and finds nothing. Next he checks J. Nothing. Sure that he’s right, he scans his list of contacts from the top before he finds the newest addition, _Hot Omega Across the Hall._

Sighing, Steve flicks him a message,

_Really?_

Sam steals a bite of Steve’s sandwich while Steve stares at Bucky’s smiling face on his phone, and wonders whether he should mention snapchat to him, to receive beautiful and terrible pictures of his face most days with an excuse.

Grinning at his phone like an idiot, he takes a sip of his water and looks at Bucky’s message the second he screen lights up,

_I don’t know what you mean._

Ignoring the look Sam gives him, Steve texts back,

_Hot omega across the hall?_

Steve grins as he opens a new snapchat from Darcy who has sent a picture of delicious looking waffles covered in chocolate sauce captioned, ‘You jealous biatches?’.

By the time Steve works out that Bucky has actually already added himself as Steve’s friend on snapchat, his phone vibrates in his hand and he reads his new text,

_It is both accurate and more interesting than Bucky._

Steve smiles, shaking his head at the screen without even realising, there is nothing more interesting than Bucky. He isn’t sure when that happened, but it has, and now, he can’t really not think about him. Especially not when Bucky sends a snapchat of himself with a cup of coffee, smiling goofily at the camera, probably no doubt completely oblivious of how adorable he looks.

**_…_ **

The next morning, Steve gets ready faster than usual, and then spends an extra ten minutes dicking around doing absolutely nothing. Checking the time, he wonders whether or not he should linger like he always does. But phone in hand he chooses to flick Bucky a text, instead of lingering by the door for more time than necessary,

_You wanna grab breakfast?_

For two minutes there is no reply, and then Bucky’s door is swinging open and his voice is calling out, “Come on Steve!”

Steve laughs, stuffs his phone into his back pocket and is in the hallway in a matter of seconds. Making sure to lock the door behind him, he listens to Bucky as he chats merrily away to him, body drawing closer and closer to Steve as they make their way down the hallway, past the other alphas rooms, and when the step into the lift and see Rumlow’s face, it takes everything Steve has to not growl at him possessively and place a hand on Bucky’s hip and draw _his_ -

Not his omega. But the desire to protect Bucky, an omega is still one he can barely resist.

Rumlow says nothing, steps out of the elevator and leaves Steve to glare after him before Bucky is knocking their shoulders to get his attention as he carries on his story about what dumb thing he and Barton managed to do the night before last.

**…**

By the second week of their friendship, only a few days after the exchanged numbers, Bucky tells him to knock on his door whenever he’s going down to breakfast, says he doesn’t want to eat alone if he doesn’t have to, says that there is no better way to start the day. Steve doesn’t want to tell him that eating breakfast with him is the highlight of his day, so he doesn’t. Instead he just nods and tries to rein in a wider smile.

Steve tries not to notice the mornings where Bucky has the scent of another alpha on him, tries not to notice the way it makes his whole body tenses up and his hand threaten to stray towards Bucky’s chin, tip it upwards and check for a bond bite. He never does, never gives himself into his urges, but every morning without even really noticing his eyes flick there, and he feels instantly relaxed by the lack of anything marking Bucky’s skin. No bond bite, bruises or hickeys, nothing at all.

On those mornings, Steve finds himself leaning closer into Bucky’s touches, finds himself sitting just a little closer to Bucky. The first few times it happens he assumes that he will lean away, keep to himself, but he doesn’t, and it takes him a few times to figure out that he’s doing his best to scent Bucky without even realising it.

Breakfast turns into walking places together, heading to lectures if they are in the same building, meeting for the occasional dinner, which means eating thai food on Bucky’s dorm room floor, laughing and chatting and singing loudly and slightly out of tune to Bucky’s records. It doesn’t take long for Steve to realise that even though Bucky may never be his omega, he will always be his friend, and Steve needs to control his urges around Bucky, because he can’t distract him from his studies, not when the omega fought tooth and nail to get into this college in the first place, not when he’s on scholarship, not when he probably doesn’t want Steve anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally actually spoke in this one :D A little more...  
> Thank you so much to everyone who commented and subscribed and bookmarked and kudos'd on the first chapter, you have no idea what that means to me, so thanks :D  
> (A far shorter chapter than intended but the next one will be up in a few days to make up for it.)


	3. Hurricane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heats and ruts, late night phone calls and words unspoken, and a wee bit of draaaaaaaaaaaaama :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More a/b/o universe details for y'all:
> 
> Since betas do not undergo heats or ruts, that is why they are often in high ranking positions, as they are considered to be level headed and well grounded. They do not fall to their knees at an alphas scent, completely delirious and intoxicated like omegas, and they do not get aggressive and possessive like alphas do. They also require less days off and are able to study more, which is why there are more surgeons and politicians and also school teachers that are betas. (most teachers, not including professors are betas, simply because it is less confusing or dangerous to have children in their care, and more reliable as they don’t take monthly leave, or cover children in offending scents that parents may react to).  
> Alphas take up most of the positions in military, and manual labour positions, as they are strong and hard working, most athletes are also alphas.  
> Jobs and careers are not entirely decided by whether one is a/b/o, and societal norms do not dictate certain people should have certain positions, but the groups tend to go into certain positions simply because they do.  
> Omegas are thought of largely as housepartners, who cook, clean and take care of the children, not exclusively, but less omegas are in careers than those are in jobs. Some still believe that omegas work until they are married at which point they quit and get married. Because of this belief, universities do not accept many omegas, mostly betas and also alphas, as a college education is believed to be wasted on omegas, so scholarships for Omegas are especially hard to get. 
> 
> Just another reason why Stev-o doesn't think telling Bucky how he feels is a brilliant idea.... Bucky needs to pass his classes and not get distracted, to keep his scholarship, the scholarship he fought tooth and nail for, so Steve ensures that he keeps merely a friendship with Bucky, not only because he doesn't know if the feelings are returned, but because he doesn't want to jeopardize Bucky's future. (Alpha/omega friendships aren't hard, but with Bucky, Steve finds it nearly impossible at times)

It’s easy and it’s simple, and part of him feels like everything’s moving too fast, and he can’t believe that it’s been a few weeks, a few weeks of knowing Bucky, but then sometimes, sometimes everything feels so slow. Sometimes he finds himself pausing just for a moment, just for a fraction of a second he lets himself look at Bucky, really look at him; he takes in the way that Bucky’s eyes are crinkled in the corner as he laughs at something he just said, or the way that Bucky’s nose is scrunched up in concentration as he’s reading through an essay that really should have been read through two days or so earlier, or the way his mouth quirks in the corner before he grins; and for that fraction of a second he can’t believe that’s it hasn’t even been a month, a month of Bucky, and he can’t imagine ever having to live without him, can’t imagine how he ever did.

A month into their friendship Bucky tells him over a cup of coffee and a halved blueberry muffin, that Steve is one of his best friends. He says he knows it’s stupid, that they barely know each other, but Steve doesn’t let him get the rest of his nervous ramble out, cuts him short, telling him Bucky’s one of his best friends too.

He’s Bucky’s friend, a term that he proudly holds, well Bucky’s best friend, at least one of them, and he loves that. He wouldn’t change that for the world. He loves Bucky, he knows that before November even hits. He knows that if he ever has an omega, if he is anyone’s alpha, he’ll be Bucky’s. But he won’t risk his friendship. He’d rather have Bucky as a friend than not have him at all. And losing him? Forever? That’s just a risk that Steve is not at all willing to take.

The next day, Bucky scent heightens, and Steve knows his heat is near. It’s his second heat in the building, and Steve finds himself cancelling dinner with him, finds his face buried in the pillow that Bucky had been leaning against that afternoon eating a bowl of cereal and listening to Steve rant, the pillow covered in Bucky’s scent as Steve breathes it in, hoping that Bucky won’t hear him through the walls.

The next morning Steve awakens to a text from Bucky,

_Heats hit, see you on the other side._

Without opening the message Steve knew, knew it in the way that Bucky’s scent seeped under his door, knew it in the way that he woke up so hard it almost hurt, knew it in the way that he could barely focus enough to grab his phone when it beeped beside him. Bucky in heat is bad enough, tempting enough, dizzying enough, but Steve’s rut is close, too close for comfort. They aren’t overlapping, but they are too close to doing so. The alpha knows that he really shouldn’t stay in his dorm for the next few nights, but he can’t leave, he knows he cannot leave Bucky alone on a floor filled with alphas, not when he knows the attention it draws, not when he’s not the only one who finds it hard to focus with Bucky’s scent seeping under the door.

**…**

For the next five days, Steve barely leaves his room, and whenever he does he can’t help but linger in the hallway outside of his door, can’t help but pausing, can’t help but hear the whimper that sneaks underneath Bucky’s door.

Bucky’s scent is everywhere, inescapable but what Steve isn’t aware of is the fact that the hallway is doused in two scents, what Steve isn’t aware of that he is projecting a scent that rivals Bucky’s, what he doesn’t know is that the reason the alphas give Steve small nods in the lift or the reason why they cover their nose and mouth with their hand as they head down the hallway isn’t because of Bucky’s scent, well not primarily, it’s due to Steve, who all but peed, unknowingly, near Bucky’s door and all down the hallway, and continues to do so each morning when he knocks on Bucky’s door and asks if he’s alright, a question which is always answered with a small hum followed by a, “Only time will tell.” Or that he continues to do so each time he lingers in the hallway by his door, or even when he’s studying or attempting to, and catches a whiff of an alpha over the scent of Bucky, and ends up projecting a scent, a warning to alphas, a protection for _his_ omega that he isn’t aware he is projecting.

But god, Bucky is aware of it, revels in it, breathes it in and soaks it up, can’t not, not when it’s inescapable, no when the last thing he wants to do is escape it.

**…**

Steve knows Bucky’s heat is over before the omega texts him, knows that it safe for him to leave and knows that he cannot stay any longer, not when he is only a few hours out of rut. He’s at Sam’s by the time Bucky texts him, a text that he doesn’t receive, just hears his phone beep through the wall before Sam sighs and puts the damn thing of silent. Steve’s not escaping Bucky per say, but he knows he can’t be around him, knows that he needs to keep his urges in check.

Sam teases him, of course he does, and Tony coos at Steve from the other side of the door even though Steve has been out of rut for three days at that point. But Steve knows that its safer to stay away from Bucky completely, knows that even though most of the time he has an iron clad grip on his desires, on his urges that most alphas can’t or won’t control, he doesn’t trust himself. Not when Bucky’s only a few days out of heat and he is just out of rut.

Rut over for a whole day he has phone privileges back, and after reading the mountain of emails and texts he managed to miss, he calls Bucky, even though it’s almost 2am and Bucky will probably be sleeping considering he does have class technically later that day, but Steve needs to hear his voice.

The phone rings, rings and rings, and Steve cradles the phone in his hand wondering why he was thinking that calling at this time would be a good idea, and is about to hang up when the ringing stops. There’s a pause, a breath and then Bucky’s voice, “Hey stranger.”

“Hey I, you sound tired, did I wake you? I did didn’t I? Shit, I’m so sorry, I kno-” Steve rambles, taking note of the sleep in Bucky’s voice, and torn between wanting to hear his voice like that always and wishing that he never had to hear it because now it’ll just be another thing that distracts him when Bucky’s scent seeps under his door.

There’s a chuckle, a chuckle that makes Steve pause before his name is breathed down the line, “Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m tired but you didn’t wake me.” The words seem to have been shaped with a smirk, and it makes Steve smile a little, nervous but not wholly so, because it’s been too long since he’s heard this voice.

He can’t help but seek confirmation, “Really?”

“Really Steve, and even if ya did, I know you miss me.” Bucky’s tone is light, words friendly but it still makes Steve blush a little, something he doesn’t often do but always manages to when Sam and Tony tease him about one brunette omega in particular.

Still a little nervous, Steve teases back, “I do, do I?”

“Course pal, how could you not? No one to give you shit about your weird eating habits or to make your coffee just how you like it when you’re too lazy to do it for yourself?”

Steve chuckles, “God Buck, I’m not sure how I survived the past few days.”

“You barely did.” Bucky scoffs. There’s a few seconds of silence, comfortable familiar silence and then Bucky launches into a story about the other day that Steve hasn’t heard yet, and Steve’s eyes flutter shut as he lies back on his bed in Sam’s spare room, head propped up on his arm as he tucks his hand beneath his head, and just laughs along with Bucky, his whole body relaxing just at the sound of his voice.

It’s almost 5 by the time Steve falls asleep, snoring softly down the phone, his snores not even registered by the unconscious Bucky who has his phone on speaker phone beside his head and his face titled towards the sound of Steve’s breaths.

**…**

Steve ends up staying longer at Sam’s than he intended, ends up staying a few extra days under the pretence of studying as Sam has a quieter apartment, with no distracting scents, so he can study for mocks better there.

When he gets back from Sam’s, he lets Bucky pull him into a hug, lets himself hold Bucky for a minute or two before he is reluctantly pulling away, his senses smothered in Bucky’s scent and every fibre of his being telling him to wrap his arms around _his_ omega and hold him close, but instead he takes another step away from Bucky, pushes his hand through his own hand, and asks, “The usual?”

To which Bucky nods in reply to, and they fall back into their rhythm, neither of them really mentioning what their scents are so obviously giving away. Steve doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what Bucky wants him to do, if anything, so he simply doesn’t, he tries not to think about the alpha he can sometimes smell on Bucky, and tries his best not to project a protective scent whenever another alpha even so much as looks at Bucky in a way he doesn’t like (he fails, but Bucky doesn’t mind, actually, he sort of loves it).

**…**

They continue to walk places together, lectures if they are in the same building, eat breakfast together always and sometimes dinner together. But Steve stays clear of him completely when he nears his next rut, flees when it actually hits and avoids Bucky as much as possible when he’s close to his next heat. It’s almost unbearable, being able to smell his pheromones so strongly, have the scent wrap around and make him almost delirious, but he can’t leave not when he needs to protect Bucky, not when he needs to make sure he’s safe. He’s not _his_ omega, god, but that doesn’t mean Steve doesn’t want to protect him as best he can.

Tony continues to tease Steve whenever the two of them meet up for lunch or a coffee or are crashed side by side on Sam’s couch, and Steve continues to blush occasionally and also remain firm in his belief that he can’t tell Bucky how he feels, still tries to keep his scent in check around the omega, because Bucky needs a friend, not another alpha who wants to mate him. Steve cannot risk their friendship, not when Bucky has already managed to worm his way into so much of his life, so much of his heart, he can’t lose him, so he continues to simply be the omegas friend, and before Steve really knows it, the time is flying by, and he cannot imagine not sitting with the omega every morning to eat breakfast, not running alongside the omega with Sam tailing behind them a few hundred metres behind, not leaning against his bed as Bucky is spread all over Steve’s bed, both of them studying in silence, not being teased by Bucky or teasing him back. Without even realising it, Bucky is part of Steve’s life, and there is nothing he would do to change that, and he can’t do anything to risk that.

**…**

By mid-November Steve decides that he loves winter.

Absolutely fucking loves winter.

He used to not really mind it.

Well that’s a lie, he used to almost die in winter time, so it wasn’t exactly his favourite season to be in, but in all fairness apart from barely working lungs and endless nights shivering, Steve doesn’t really remember much about his early winters.

But now, now Steve loves winter.

And maybe it has a little bit to do with James Buchanan Barnes.

Steve will never tell Bucky, but he loves to see him wrapped up in a scarf, a beanie pulled over his head. He loves how the tip of his nose goes red at the tip and how he leans into Steve’s touch, and with the layers between them, Steve cannot help but wrap his arm around Bucky and keep him close, running his hand up and down his arm to keep him walk. And in the past week and a half he has been taking the longer routes to class just for a few extra moments of Bucky, well neither of them mention it.

Breakfast doesn’t usually mean a cute little red nose but it does mean he’s wrapped up in a scarf, and sometimes when Steve is ‘forgetful’ Bucky sighs at him and gives him a spare scarf to wrap around his neck. It’s not like Steve’s dorm is literally a few steps away, but the scarf always smells like Bucky and Steve will never say no to that.

Despite Steve knowing that he shouldn’t really trust himself, not around Bucky at least. He lets Bucky steal his jumpers which he claims are warmer than his own. Steve doesn’t mind loaning his jumpers, not at all, especially not since Bucky always returns them smelling of him.

The one thing that Steve doesn’t love about winter, is pulling Bucky close and discovering that he smells like an alpha, an alpha that isn’t him, an alpha that doesn’t live on their floor, an alpha whose scent makes Steve want to growl. It isn’t right, another alphas scent on _his_ , fuck, on Bucky, Bucky who isn’t _his_ omega, but sometimes that it is damn easy to forget.

What Steve doesn’t know is whose scent is on Bucky, because Bucky still hasn’t mentioned an alpha, and even though Steve doesn’t do it on purpose, he finds himself looking for a bond bite whenever Bucky unwraps his scarf from around his neck, and is always instantly relieved to find his neck bare.

He feels a sense of pride, he knows it’s bad, but he can’t help it, whenever he waves or nods goodbye to Bucky, knowing that he smells of Steve now, knowing that whoever Bucky’s alpha is, will be greeted by the scent of another alpha wrapped around their omega. And while Steve shouldn’t be proud of that, he is. There is something just so satisfying about having Bucky’s scent wrapped around himself but his scent wrapped around Bucky? God, even the thought of it makes him long for a cold shower.

**…**

Suddenly, somehow it is nearing December, and it is totally normal for Steve to knock on Bucky’s door calling him for breakfast, he knocks at the same time every day, except Tuesdays when he has a late lecture and he knocks half an hour later, or on Fridays when he knocks half an hour early.

Usually Bucky is alert and ready, already dressed and smiling, eager to talk to Steve about a dream he’d had or something a professor mentioned or something he’d read, but today is different.

Instead of dressed and eager, today he answers the door in his boxers, bleary eyed and hair mussed by sleep. Fingers trying to calm the birds’ nest he blinks at Steve, almost looking at him questioningly.

Bucky smells so fucking good, and he’s almost naked and Steve’s eyes rake over golden skin, gaze lingering on the scars on his left arm, linger on the cuts and bullet wounds and scars that litter his chest, and the scar on his stomach that isn’t from something as nice and necessary as an appendectomy. He’s distracted by Bucky, by the never before mentioned scars, but then his mind is torn from wondering because he notices the scent, and his entire demeanour changes, eyes flick from Bucky to the bed where a red head is lying, face smooshed against the pillow and blankets slightly pushed back in the corner, from where Bucky hastily just got out of bed.

The smell is everywhere, offending Steve, wrapped around Bucky, _his_ omega, no not his, but shit. Mind not working, he glares at the red head, an action she doesn’t even notice but Bucky does, he opens his mouth and distantly Steve can hear him say, “Steve.”

 But it doesn’t process, instead he presses his fingers underneath Bucky’s jaw and tilts up his chin, gaze falling on the milky white column of his throat, eyes lingering above his scent glands, searching for a bond bite. He knows he’s pumping out pheromones, the red head is looking at him now, risen from her sleep and no doubt pissed that he’s handling her omega…. His throat is unmarked, they aren’t bonded and Steve finds his body relaxing at the realisation. Bucky looks like he’s about to melt into the puddle on the ground, his legs shaking and his pupils so blown, the stormy seas barely a ring around the iris. Steve isn’t the only one pumping out his scent, and Bucky’s is making his head swim.

Fingers hastily removed, Steve lets his offending hand fall to his side and he is taking a step back, and Bucky’s body leans to follow him, but Steve doesn’t notice. It’s not that he doesn’t let himself notice, it’s that he is staring at his feet now, wishing that he’d gone straight to breakfast instead of knocking, wishing that he had better control of himself.

He usually does, tires so hard to be controlled around Bucky, tries so hard to control his mouth, his body, his scent. “Shit, I’m-”

“Steve-” Bucky’s voice is not helping matters. Breathy and almost desperate, it is making Steve long to stay, it is making his scent spike, making it very hard to resist his urges, ones that he is barely in control of right now.

“I gotta go, I’m sorry.” He adds hastily, already making his retreat. His brain catches up with his movements when he is already a few steps away from Bucky, Bucky who is gripping on the door to keep himself standing up right, Bucky who is watching Steve retreat as fast as he can with a sad eyes.

“Steve!” Bucky calls out after him but Steve is already around the corner, heart thumping and vision blurred, every instinct telling him to go back in there and claim him, to fight his alpha to tell Bucky to end it, but he has no claim over him.

None at all.

So he goes to Sam’s, the only place that he knows he should go right now. He turns a few heads on his way across the courtyard, it’s nothing new, not with how he looks now, but it’s not his face that is turning heads now it’s his scent. Alphas pull their omegas closer glaring over at him, and Steve moves as fast as his feet will carry him. Bucky’s voice bounces around his head, and god he can’t get the image of the redheaded alpha in his bed, and it makes him so angry.

Steve realises that even though it’s been weeks, weeks with Bucky, he still knows barely anything about him, not in truth, not really. He knows how he likes his tea, knows that when he has herbal he can forget he made it and then be found drinking it hours later without pause. He knows that Bucky always manages to lose his hair ties, leaves them all over Steve’s room for Steve to find when he’s looking for a pen or some loose change. He knows so many little things, but the big things, his family, his friends, his alpha? Steve knows none of it, doesn’t’ know Bucky, not really, not in the way that matters-

He doesn’t punch a wall like he wants to so instead he bends over, fingers digging into his knee caps as he pukes into the gutter. With his stomach retching and unfamiliar scents bombarding his senses, he can barely breathe.

A hand comes towards him, teamed with a soft, “You okay man?” but he wrenches away from the touch, a growl in the back of his throat before he mumbles an apology. Wiping his hand over his mouth, he hurries down the street, towards Sam’s flat, wondering what it is about Bucky that makes him feel this way, when no omega has even made him feel like this before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised the next chapter would be soon didn't I? 
> 
> So yeah, draaaaama... poor Stevie, smelling the alpha on Bucky and seeing her in his bed are two completely different things, and he cannot deal with either of them, especially not the latter... Bucky may not actually be his omega, but that doesn't mean he's not protective as hell of him all the same.
> 
> Hella hellish day so some comments would cheer me up :)


	4. Riptide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiding behind helpful trees and late night wanderings...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No helpful a/b/o universe details for y'all, but keep an eye out next chapter :)

He doesn’t see Bucky for the rest of the day. He may have seen him across the courtyard, but he ducked behind a tree, a tree that did not hide him not even a little bit, but he did trip over the brunette who was sitting beneath said tree, and ended up lying on the ground beside him for a few seconds. Part of him feels like Bucky may have seen him anyway, but Bucky didn’t wander over, so after a few minutes of smiling awkwardly at those brown piercing eyes, he got up and headed off to dinner.

The next morning he went for a run an hour earlier than usual, and the next day he did the same. He felt pathetic, especially when Bucky knocked on his door and he was walking across his living room, towel wrapped around his waist, and he promptly snuck back into the bathroom, hoping that Bucky would just head to breakfast without him, that he wouldn’t wait, because while Steve was hiding in the bathroom, he very much did not want to be.

Avoiding Bucky isn't what he should have been doing, but he can’t think of anything else to do. So when he sees the redhead across the courtyard he cannot stop the low growl in the back of his throat. Thankfully, Darcy cries, “Clint!” at the top of lungs beside him, waving at the man beside the redhead with soft brown eyes, and no one hears Steve’s growl.

He doesn’t glare at the redhead, he really doesn’t, but simply because he doesn’t look at her, instead he observes the blonde beside her, the blonde who has a coffee cup in one hand and the redheads hand in the other. He seems happy, coffee dependent but smiling, laughing at something as the two of them hurry towards them.

Steve wants to tell Darcy he needs to go, but he can’t shift, can’t even bring himself to open to his mouth because he knows that, ‘I’ll see you later’ or some derivative of that will not be what will come out at all.

Bucky isn’t his omega, he knows that, but god, seeing the redheaded alpha in his bed, having Bucky dishevelled and soft with sleep in front of him, in nothing but boxers with the redheads scent wrapped around him made him so damn possessive, it hurt his head.

He’s never been like this before, he’s not like the other alphas in so many respects, he has more self-control, but where Bucky is involved, he is seriously struggling to have any at all. So he clamps his mouth shut as the two of them get even closer, and he tries his best to curl his lips into a polite smile.

Oblivious to Steve tensing beside her, Darcy pulls Clint into a hug, a move that blue eyes follow with little interest. The blondes an omega, Steve can smell it, and Darcy’s an omega, not a threat, so Steve isn’t surprised that the redhead doesn’t react to the move, even lets Darcy pull her into a hug too, a move that the blonde doesn’t seem at all fazed by. It makes Steve wonder who the blonde is to the redhead.

“Steve, this is Clint and his alpha Natasha.” Darcy says, and Steve’s fake smile drops, makes way for an actual smile, a grin in fact as he notices bonding marks on the both of them. No wonder the redhead, Natasha isn’t bonded to Bucky, she’s already bonded, which makes the blondes, Clint’s, lessened scent make a lot more sense.

“Nat.” The redhead extends her hand and Steve’s eyes widen at the relationship and she gives him a much too knowing smile.

“Wait is this the Steve?” Clint asks, looking from Steve to Nat in avid excitement. His eyes rest on Steve for a moment, assessing, and Steve isn’t sure what to say, doesn’t know whether he should nod or shake his head. Having no idea whether or not is the Steve Clint is referring to, he says nothing. Nat’s lips quirk into a smile and Clint grins, “Holy shit it is.”

Darcy looks between their faces, Steve who looks equal parts confused and curious, his mind going in overdrive as he tries to figure out how Clint knows him, and Clint and Nat, both smiling now. “You three already know each other?”

“I feel like I do, god I’ve heard enough about Steve Rogers.” Clint grins, hand reaching out and shaking Steve’s before he sighs and leans forward, wrapping his arms around Steve, and hugging him before letting go, and looking him up and down again in consideration. Nat steals his coffee and takes a sip of it, as he hums, “I honestly thought you’d be taller, I mean Barnes-”

“Wait you’re Barton right?” Steve blurts out, cheeks flushing and heart racing. He knows its dumb, that the fact Bucky has talked about him to his friends, shouldn’t surprise him, hell he talks about Bucky all the damn time to Sam, well not always, but Sam would whole heartedly agree with ‘all the fucking time’, but the fact that he has makes Steve grin.

“He talks about me! I knew it, what did he say? Wait don’t tell me. Although if he told you the story about that hike I bet he left out the bit that-” Beside him Nat rolls her eyes before clearing her throat. Her arm is wrapped around Clint’s waist, not possessively, but almost instinctually, like it belongs there. “Oh shit right, we were late for May’s lecture already. See you tonight Darce?”

Darcy nods. Steve still hasn’t moved, the tips of his ears are still red, and he is wondering what Bucky had told them about him, wonders why Bucky was even talking about him, if he was talking about him in the same way he talks to Steve about Clint, or in a different way entirely.

A few steps away from them now, Clint turns back as Darcy rifles through her satchel, attempting to find her phone. “Oh and Steve?”

Steve looks up and pulls himself out of his thought, “Yeah?”

“Stop being oblivious.” Clint yells back, grinning at him as his fingers intertwine with Nat’s, and he tugs her after him, both of them breaking off in a jog as they head towards May’s lecture, already 5 minutes late, and not wanting to make that into 10.

**…**

It’s almost midnight when Steve is heading back to his building from the library. Books and notes haphazardly shoved into his bag alongside his sketchbook, he takes a swig of his water bottle before stuffing that in alongside his stuff and picking up his pace.

It’s not late, it’s early for him to be heading to bed really, he isn’t rushing home because he feels threatened, feels scared about being out this late. He’s tall and broad enough now that he’s seen as a threat, seen as someone not to pick fights with, seen as someone who won’t make a great target, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get into fights anyway on his way home. He’s rushing because he needs to get back because he knows Bucky, knows his timetable and his habits, and knows that he needs to get home now to avoid running into him on the staircase or in the hallway. It’s pathetic, he knows it’s pathetic, but avoiding him is the best solution, the only solution that has presented itself to him.

While he’s not a threat, he’s also not an idiot, he knows that he should not be walking through the dark practically abandoned campus listening to music. Sure he’ll probably smell someone before he hears them, but he doesn’t want to risk it. Plus he listens while he walks, hoping to hear nothing, but knowing that he probably will hear something, probably will have to get involved in some fight to protect someone, because he can’t help it and as much as Sam tells him that he’s an idiot that doesn’t stop him from doing it.

He almost gets home without trouble.

He almost does.

He needs to sleep, needs to shower, needs to get ready for tomorrow, and he’s running late so he takes a shortcut, a short cut that he doesn’t usually take, and he freezes when he hears a voice. At first he can’t make out what it says, but his gut clenches, he already knows that tonight is one of those nights that he spends twenty minutes in front of a mirror trying to stitch up his face or attempting to find bandages.

Feet moving without thought, he heads towards where he thinks the noise is coming from, and huffs a sigh when he hears nothing for a few seconds.

“I’d watch that pretty little mouth of yours if I were you.” The voice is still far away. A voice he doesn’t recognise, but at least he has some idea of where it is coming from. There’s a sound, some reply that Steve can’t make out and then there’s a clatter followed by a low growl.

He may end up running into Bucky in the hallway, but this cannot wait. Despite Sam’s scolding he would never ignore something like this either. And if Steve had any hesitation at all, the next few words he could make out would seal the deal, “Someone needs to put you in your place.”

Steve is hurrying towards the voices now, he knows those sounds, knows the sound of someone getting punched, he should, he’s been a part of it so often. And it doesn’t take much for him to figure out that one person is winning, with ease, and it doesn’t take much a guess for him to figure out it’s probably an alpha.

It’s dark and there’s no one around, and sound travels far at this time. He can’t see them, not well, can see two outlines and Steve is already heading towards them, before a second voice pipes up, voice loud and clear and practically shaking with anger, “You touch her again I will fucking kill you.”

God, he’d recognise that voice anywhere.

There’s a low growl that sneaks up his throat before he even realises it, and then he is shifting towards the two outlines and is so caught up he doesn’t notice a third outline, moving quickly towards him.

The third outline is a blonde girl, well woman who is rushing towards Steve now is not someone he recognises. She flinches as soon as she smells him, and he puts his palms up, she’s an omega, and if he can tell that, she can certainly tell that he’s an alpha, and at this time of night, he doesn’t blame her for seeing him as a threat.

“What-” Steve starts, but the rest of his sentence is cut off when he hears a groan, and then the sound of a body hitting the concrete. Eyes glancing up he looks over, but he can’t make out who’s who. He’s too far away, and he needs to get closer, he has to. He takes a step towards them, which means a step closer to the blonde, and it hits him, it makes more sense now, she’s almost in heat. “You need to get home.” He doesn’t want to command her, but he does, he can’t help it and she nods meekly before she tightens her grip on her bag straps.

She opens her mouth to say something but Steve is already rushing past her, rushing towards the fighting, because someone is snarling and the other is hauling himself up off the ground. He can just make out Bucky’s scent, but it is too obscured by the smell of gasoline to ascertain whether Bucky is hurt or not.

He is running towards them now, narrowing the space between then, he can’t see the blood but he knows there will be blood, he can smell it now. Bucky says something to the brunette, but Steve doesn’t hear what they are saying to each other because he is frozen. Bucky’s jeans are torn and his shirt is already a little bloodied up, and he looks vicious, and god Steve cannot think. He knows Bucky is fighting, and he is so damn protective of him right now, but he can’t help but admire the fact that Bucky is in this fight to protect that blonde girl, that is clear enough, and god he is gorgeous-

That train of thought freezes as the alpha brings up his hand, blade catching the light and Steve can’t breathe. Not when the hand moves and he leans towards Bucky-

And then the knife is out of his hand, and Bucky is punching him so hard in the chest Steve can hear a crack and the guy almost shrieks before he punches Bucky, and this time he lands a punch. But Bucky doesn’t make a sound, instead he drops the guy, and kicks him in the stomach as soon as he hits the concrete. Bucky may be an omega, but he’s not like most of them, not built like them, not delicate in anyway, if this alpha was in rut he wouldn’t have such an easy time, but now, now he is beating the shit out of the alpha.

Steve moves again, needing to protect Bucky, needing to get- There’s a flurry of movement, the alpha back up on his feet and Steve is only a few steps from them now.

Bucky staggers backwards, clutching at his face as he still manages to glare at the brunette in front of him, still manages to look feral and dangerous as he bleeds and lets his legs carry him backwards. Steve snarls, cannot help himself, and the alpha who Steve doesn’t know, doesn’t even recognise is caught by surprise, and he takes one look at Steve, one look at his expression, his size and then retreats as soon as Steve’s scent hits him, and Steve can pinpoint the moment it does, because the brunette looks fucking terrified and gaps it as fast as he legs can carry him.  Honestly Steve’s surprised it took him this long to catch a whiff of him, but Steve isn’t surprised for long.

He isn’t surprised because he stops thinking.

Because Bucky should have stopped moving.

But Bucky hasn’t.

“Bucky!” Steve cries out. Bucky hasn’t stopped staggering backwards, and he doesn’t seem to realise that he is heading towards the edge, that he is almost two steps away from a few metre drop, and Steve is running towards him, and Bucky looks like he’s about to faint, legs shaking and unsteady beneath him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be swapping to Bucky's view relatively soonish, and you all we get some answers to a few of your questions. Don't worry you will find out why Nat was in his bed, and you will find out more about his past, and Stevie's too :D
> 
> Next chapter should be up rather soonish :) Thanks to everyone subscribing, bookmarking, kudos'ing, and commenting, it means a lot to me :D
> 
> Chemistry is killing me, so some comments would be much appreciated guys :D
> 
> (Shockingly, in some ways, this is sort of the calm before the storm....)


	5. Box Around the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He needs to keep his omega safe.
> 
> His.
> 
> That's the problem though isn't it? Bucky isn't his omega. He doesn't need Steve to protect him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will probably end up adding a new warning for this chapter, because this does get a little smutty at the end. (ish)
> 
> Not super duper relevant for this chapter, but here are some a/b/o universe facts for y'all:  
> Courtship doesn’t apply, not at college at least. If one was traditional then they would meet guardians/parents of the omega before mating/bonding with them, but that is often not what happens.  
> For a bond bite to take it must be given in an omegas heat, and must be given in two consecutive heats for it to stay. Omegas give their alphas matching bonding bites, but betas cannot give bond bites only receive. An alpha or a betas bond mark can fade over time, but an omegas bond bite is for life, the only way to get rid of it is to burn it off, which some omegas do (after war an influx happened – and many omegas died while burning theirs off)  
> It is the norm for alphas to have more than one partner before they bond, but usually omegas only have one, they wait for their alpha and are more often than not, marked on their first time. Steve hasn't had an omega before, and Bucky well... time shall tell on that one.  
> (Lemme know if you have any questions regarding anything about my little a/b/o universe, or the a/b/o universe in general, I will try and answer as best I can.)

Steve doesn’t even realise what he’s done for a few seconds, doesn’t really remember moving towards Bucky, but he must have, because he is firmly holding onto the omega now, with no intent to let go of him anytime soon.

"Steve." Bucky's voice is soft, distant almost and when Steve blinks he realises just how close he is, realises that this is probably isn't the first time his name has been said.

Steve relaxes his grip, fingertips no longer digging into Bucky's skin but marks there that will last a few days. He tries not think about that, but he can't help it, can't think of how Bucky will be a marked omega for days, that he has- 

Bucky is talking again, and Steve needs to tune back in, needs to pull out of his thoughts a little, needs to stop his heart from pounding in his ears, stop himself from pumping out his oaky scent. "I'm fine, it's okay, you can let go of me now."

"I'm sorry."

And he means it.

Sort of. Well a small part of him is sorry, he is sorry for not letting go, sorry if Bucky didn't want him to grab a hold of him. But he's not sorry he kept Bucky safe. He lets go, against all instincts telling him not to, he lets go.

Steve stares at his feet, and steps away from Bucky, wondering how he was able to lose himself to base instinct so damn fast and why every part of him is telling him to not let get go of Bucky, that the danger hasn't passed, not yet, not completely and he needs to keep _his_ omega safe.

That's the problem though isn't it?

Bucky isn't _his_ omega.

He doesn't need Steve to protect him, and some part of Steve is telling him that he doesn't want him to either, but when he glances up, Bucky's eyes aren't as blue as they usually are, and even though he can tell Bucky is trying his darnedest to calm down his scent, it is spiking anyway.

It doesn’t help matters that he hasn’t actually seen Bucky since he tilted his neck up, checking for a bond mark and feeling instantly relieved when he didn’t see one. Doesn’t help that he may or may not have been avoiding Bucky for a few days. He won’t admit to doing so, not really. He’s doing out of courtesy, or at least so he tells himself. Staying out of Bucky’s way, giving Bucky space. That’s what he’s doing, not avoiding him.

Bucky’s phone rings, and he glances down at it and Steve follows his gaze. He doesn’t stiffen when he sees Nat’s smiling face, he isn’t jealous, not even annoyed at her for interrupting whatever, well this is. Bucky’s eyes flick up to Steve for a second before he slides his thumb across the screen, answering Nat’s call.

Natasha.

That doesn’t make Steve’s scent spike, not now that he knows she’s bonded, that she isn’t a threat. He remembers her from Bucky’s stories, would probably get along with her if they met again, if they saw each other when Bucky wasn't wrapped in her scent and half naked.

"James hurry up!" Nat yells down the line, oblivious to them drowning in pheromones. Oblivious to the way Bucky's eyes are raking over Steve's face now, trying to find something. And god Steve wants to have the something that Bucky is looking for, but he doesn't know what it is.

Doesn't have a damn clue. 

Bucky replies to Nat, voice low and language foreign, and Steve stands there, wishing that he knew what Bucky was looking for, wishing that- His wishing is cut off as Bucky replies, eyes downcast, “I’d better go.”

“Yeah, uh I’m sorry I should have-” Steve is apologising, not for catching him, not for wiping the blood off of his forehead and making sure that he was still breathing, but for holding him if Bucky didn’t want him to, for not letting go if Bucky had wanted him to let go minutes earlier.

Bucky shakes his head and takes a step away from Steve, and then another one, and Steve wants to follow him, wants to press his lips against his, wants to do so many things, but he does nothing. He simply stands there and lets the rest of his sentence die as Bucky grins, “Don’t be.”

“Do you need me to,” Steve doesn’t finish his sentence, he knows Bucky knows what exactly he was going to ask, and although he expects the eye roll, which he gets, the chuckle followed by the blinding smile that makes his breath catch and his scent spike, hopefully not noticeably, he did not anticipate.

Bucky doesn’t comment on Steve’s half hopeful half shy expression, and instead he takes a few steps backwards, towards the road. “Maybe some other time.”

Steve wants to tell him that he shouldn’t be walking alone, that it’s dangerous at this time of night. And it’s not because Bucky can’t hold himself, it’s because it’s dark and well, okay maybe it’s because Steve is worrying and protective, and he doesn’t like the idea of Bucky being alone at this time, even though he’s perfectly capable, and he knows that.

“I’m not some lightweight Omega who needs to be watched 24/7, I am perfectly capable you know, you can stop worrying.” Bucky calls out to him, tone light but there is something else in it. Steve can’t make out his expression now, not in the dark, not when he is so far away, but he sees the headlights approaching Bucky and he takes an unconscious step forward before the light hits Bucky and Bucky is leaning towards the car, not away from it, and then he is getting in. A flash of red hair and then a wave, and Steve smiles, even though he knows they probably can’t see him.

“Pull yourself together Rogers.” Steve scolds himself when the car is finally out of sight, and he runs his hand down his face, as he picks his bag up off the ground where he dropped it to come to Bucky’s rescue. He really should head home and take a long cold shower.

**…**

He doesn’t see Bucky for the next few days.

He was busy with assignments and helping Sam and Darcy, so he didn’t realise it, didn’t notice that Bucky’s heat was upon him, didn’t know until he reached his floor, legs aching, his whole body exhausted. Gym bag slung over his shoulder he wonders why he didn’t shower at the gym, but that thought and all thoughts dissolve as he leaves the stairwell and enters the floor. Everyone’s gone, a few day break and only Bucky and him remain. Most people only cleared out the day before yesterday, which is why he hadn’t realised Bucky was in heat, not with some many scents mixing, people coming in and out, it was easy for Steve to miss his pre-heat scent.

Hand covering his nose, Steve heads down the corridor, treading lightly, wondering whether it would be better for him to just leave, for him just to head over to Sam’s and not even bother taking another step forward, but he can’t stop, can’t think with Bucky’s scent fucking everywhere, totally inescapable and he doesn’t want to escape it, even though he knows he needs to.

“Steve?” The voice is soft, and broken and desperate and Steve shouldn’t stop, should keep walking but he can’t, not when another wave Bucky’s scent hits him and he can barely stand barely think and then Bucky calls out, louder and more certain this time, “Steve.” It’s not a question, the first one wasn’t either, they’re both almost offerings, asking him to stay.

He wants to keep walking, he knows that he really really shouldn’t stop, but he can’t ignore Bucky, he’ll never be able to do that, so his next step falters and he pauses, only two steps away from Bucky’s door. “Yeah Buck.”

In the silence there’s a small whimper and Steve can hear Bucky push his back against the door, doesn’t need to see him to know what he is doing. Steve waits, hovering in the hallway, not ready to head into his room, but knowing that he really should. He needs to take a shower and go to sleep, but he can’t leave Bucky, he isn’t sure why he can’t, but he just, can’t.

Sensing Steve’s uncertainty, Bucky shifts even closer to the door. He doesn’t want Steve to go, not yet, so he asks, voice small and almost shy, “How was the gym?”

“How d- oh right, good.” For a moment, Steve is unsure, but then he remembers that he is an idiot. Shifting his weight for one foot to another, Steve resists the urge to take a step closer to Bucky’s bedroom door. He wants to, but god, he isn’t sure that is for the best.

“Can I-”

The rest of the sentence drops away, almost as if Bucky clamps his mouth shut trapping the words between his lips, not sure whether or not to let them hang in the air around the two of them,so Bucky silences himself.

Steve knows he shouldn’t press, but he can’t help it. Not when all he can smell is Bucky, not when he is invading every part of his brain. So instead of doing what he thinks he probably should do, he listens to the overwhelming majority in his head that lets him take a step towards Bucky’s door as he prompts, “What?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Steve doesn’t need to see him to know that Bucky is shaking his head, and probably rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn’t understand what is hidden in Bucky’s tone, but he can hear the soft whine that escapes Bucky’s lips and he knows that Bucky wants something, and Steve wants to give it to him.

Bucky isn’t _his_ omega, and he is certainly not his alpha, he’s not anyone’s alpha, but he wants to help Bucky, needs to help Bucky, because his mind is currently conveniently forgetting, well almost forgetting that Bucky isn’t his to take care of, because right now that is all he wants to do.

“What do you need?”

“It’s stupid.” Bucky huffs, and even though Steve can’t see him, he would bet his last twenty in his wallet that Bucky shakes his head, the way he always does, and pushes his right hand through his hair.

“Doesn’t matter.”  Steve answers, wanting to know what Bucky wanted to say but he doesn’t press any further. God he wants to press the issue, but he isn’t sure. He really isn’t sure what else to say, so he drops his bag and sits down, his back against the door and he takes a deep breath, even though he knows that he shouldn’t but he’s so lost on Bucky right now, he can’t stop himself.

Bucky doesn’t reply for a few minutes, and when he does its breathy and broken, “You smell so good.”

“Fuck.”

Steve’s almost in rut, only two days out, otherwise he would already be busting down that door. He knows that this should be his cue to get the fuck out of here, before he says something he regrets, but he can’t move, and not a single part of him wants to. Not with Bucky’s scent wrapped around him, not with Bucky on the other side of the damn door “You do too Buck, you have no idea how intoxicating you are.”

There’s a pause, a breathe, a sentence swallowed and then spat out, “I want you Stevie.”

“Want me to what?” Steve asks. He has an answer in mind, but its pure hope, nothing else. He knows what he thinks won’t be what it is. Knows that Bucky’s in heat right now, with him smelling so tempting it’s not surprise that Steve can’t think, not really.

For a moment, Bucky doesn’t answer.

And Steve waits.

He wants to help _his_ omega-

Not his, Bucky isn’t his any-

“Help me through this?” Bucky’s quiet voice breaks through Steve’s thoughts.

He was right. Bucky meant what he said, he wants Steve, and fucking hell does Steve want Bucky, has wanted him for too long for his brain to think of anything else but Bucky right now. But Bucky is in heat, and he shouldn’t-

Bucky is in heat and he doesn’t know what he is saying, he is just-

“Buc-” Steve starts, his voice cracked and fucking desperate, and god he wants to break the door down, he can barely think straight and he isn’t sure what Bucky is suggesting but god he wants to do whatever he can to help him.

“Want you to knot me.”

Steve growls, doesn’t even realise that he was the one who made the sound before he hears a whimper from the other side of the door. Steve shuffles closer to the door, pressed right against the wood now, eyes fluttering closed as he lets Bucky’s scent completely shroud him.

There’s silence for a second, and then Bucky is saying, voice broken and needy and so fucking desperate, “Want you to claim me, want your bite Stevie, wanna be yours, want everyone to know I’m yours.”

Steve moans this time, isn’t able to stop himself, doesn’t want to. He can’t think right now, not when Bucky is saying exactly what he has been dying to hear for months, just what he has resigned himself to accept that Bucky will never say to him. And yet here they are.

“Bucky.” It’s uncertain and fragile and broken, and Steve is leaning against the door, the door holding him up and him wishing that there wasn’t the door, wishing he could see Bucky’s face, that he could do what Bucky wants that he could wrap his arms around him and draw his body near.

“It’s not the heat talking, not just the heat, god you have no idea how much I want you.”

Steve hesitates, clearing his throat, palm splayed on the door, before he whispers, “Can I see you?”

“No.” Bucky breathes. Steve opens his mouth, but Bucky speaks before he can, “I can’t open the door.” He sounds regretful, his voice small and shaky, and so damn needy.

“That’s okay-” Steve starts, and he means it. Bucky’s in heat, he isn’t really thinking properly, not really, and Steve knows that with no door between them, neither of them will be able to control themselves. Steve has an iron grip on his urges, but with Bucky needy and in heat, his scent already intoxicating, Steve knows he won’t hold up for a second with no door between them.

“Not won’t, Nat locks me in.”

Bucky needs Steve to know that. He needs him to know that he can’t, not that he won’t. He wants to open the door, god all of him wants the door opened, but he can’t. Not for another few days, not until his heat is over, not until he can think clearly and not resort to instincts not feelings, not thoughts, just base desires.

Steve pauses, sure that he heard that wrong. Covering his nose with his hand, he tries to escape Bucky’s scent just for a second, the scent that is turning his brain to mush, the scent that is making him start being unable to resist basic instincts. Running over what Bucky just said,  Steve takes a breath, hands dropping to his side as he realises he hadn’t heard it wrong, before he exclaims, “She what?”

“It’s for my own safety.” Bucky hurriedly explains, as Steve’s protective instincts spike, his scent heady and thick, almost rendering Bucky utterly thoughtless. If he wasn’t sitting already, weight resting against the door, his knees would have buckled already, he is sure about that.

Steve shakes his head to no one at all as he growls, “You can’t get out!”

“But no one can get in.”

His voice is small and Bucky’s voice catches. Steve so desperately wants to wrap his arms around him, to keep him safe, to make sure that no one will touch _his_ omega.

Steve shakes his head, tries to stop thinking and tries words instead, “But-”

He doesn’t make it through even a few words before Bucky is cutting him off, with a well-rehearsed, well-reasoned argument, that Steve would imagine had come up in various discussions with Nat if Steve was in full control of his upstairs brain, “I do stupid shit when I’m in heat, couldn’t accidentally forget that Rumlow’s an asshole and suddenly want him cause my instincts are telling me I need an alpha to get through this.”

Bucky sighs, and Steve stops breathing. He doesn’t think that Bucky will notice, but Bucky does, he notices what Steve picked up, and Bucky quickly adds, “You’re not stupid shit Steve, but you are one of the reasons Nat locks me in here.” The words are fast and laced with something Steve can’t quite identify, but he knows without a doubt that Bucky means it, but he isn’t really sure what he means, not yet at least…

Lips moving before his brain full catches up he asks, “What? Why?”

Bucky sighs, silent for almost a minute, seemingly unsure whether or should say anything. His scent changes, just a little bit and Steve knows that he’s going to say what is on his mind. Bucky sighs again, pushes himself closer to the door and leans his forehead against the steel before he just takes the plunge, “Wouldn’t be able to resist you when I’m in heat. God can barely resist you day to day, but in heat, I’d break your fucking door down.”

“And I’d want you to.”

It’s breathy, and almost not said, but it is real, and loud enough for him to hear as Bucky sighs, “Really?”

“Course." 

"God I wish the door wasn’t locked.” Bucky sighs against the door, almost surprised that Steve doesn't seem to know how Bucky feels about him, how he’s felt ever since the two of them met, well before that even. He didn’t know Steve, but he had heard of Steve Rogers, and he liked him, liked the idea of him before he even met him, and god, when he met him, he liked the reality of the man even more. Steve can’t see him but that doesn’t stop Bucky from running his tongue across his bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, rolling his lip as he nervously waits for an answer. 

He doesn’t wait for more than two seconds before Steve is sighing against the door, “Me too.”

And fuck, he means it, with every fibre of his being, he means that.

Both backs against the door, they sit in silence, scents mingling in the hallway, Bucky’s heat scent amplified tenfold by Steve’s close proximity, and with Steve’s scent soothing and comforting as well as turning Bucky on more than he could ever have imagined, Bucky suddenly remembers what he was asking for before.

“Can you push your shirt under the door?”

Steve doesn’t ask why, he almost does, he very much almost does, but he doesn’t question Bucky’s request, simply strips of his shirt, fights the temptation to apologise for it, it’s covered in sweat, drenched with his scent by a four hour work out.

Steve can’t see it but closing his eyes he focuses on Bucky’s scent  as it heightens as he pulls the shirt to his face, covering his face with it and breathing Steve in. His scent is stronger than he’s ever being and Bucky moans. Steve is sure he’s imagined it until Bucky does it again, scent spiking again and Steve slumps against the door, hard and throbbing, and then Bucky’s scent fades a little, fades as he’s just pulled Steve’s shirt over his head, just a bit big and smelling completely and utterly like him.

“Steve…” Bucky is panting now, word broken and halved and Steve prays to god that no one comes down the hallway, that no one decides to visit either of them tonight. He knows what he is thankful for this year, knows that the fact no one is left on their floor is the best thing to ever happen.

“Wonder how you’ll feel.” Bucky pants, and suddenly Steve isn’t thinking anymore, isn’t able to. He pushes against the door, growling at it, it’s hard, too hard but god not as hard as him right now. Bucky’s scent is eating its way into Steve now, he’s utterly shrouded in it and he is losing his mind. Instincts flaring up he wants to kick down the door, but a small sliver in his brain tells him no, tells him that Bucky won’t be safe from anyone else if he does.

He can’t break the door down, and he is almost losing his mind not being able to see Bucky right now, but then Bucky cries out, calling Steve’s name out in a way that no one ever has before and Steve fucking loses his mind, one hand splayed against the door as he loses his mind, the world turning white as he says Bucky’s name like a goddamn prayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides*
> 
> Did I do good?
> 
> Please hook me up with some comments and lemme know how I did. 
> 
> Was this the chapter that you’ve all been waiting for?
> 
> (Wasn't going to upload this chapter for another few days, but today was a fucking long day and some comments would really cheer me up. Also sorry guys, life has been rather hectic of late so the next chapter won't be up for a few weeks.)


	6. No Need for Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the reign of the door continues...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No new a/b/o facts for this chapter, but there should be next chapter...  
> Lemme know if you have any questions regarding anything about my little a/b/o universe, or the a/b/o universe in general, I will try and answer as best I can.

Steve breathes in, lets Bucky’s scent fill him up, lets his eyes flutter close as he listens to Bucky’s breathing on the other side of the door. He’s asleep now, and Steve wishes he could see him, see the rise and fall of his chest, see his soft expression, see how innocent he looks, see how he looks peaceful and relaxed. He wishes he could hold Bucky close as he sleeps, press kisses into his hair, and feel the warmth of his body against his. But instead he leans against the doorframe, ear pressed against the door as he listens to Bucky, not content but having to try to be, with the fact that Bucky is wearing his shirt, that even though there is a door between them, Steve’s scent is on Bucky’s skin, and that thought alone would make him hard again if he wasn’t already so worn out.

He needs to call Sam, he knows that he probably should, should talk to someone about this, but he doesn’t want to. Taking a sip of his water bottle, he rummages through his bag looking for his phone. He won’t call Sam, won’t risk waking Bucky, but he knows he needs to tell him, he knows he wants to. Not just tell someone, but Sam.

He deletes his text about four times before he settles on something simple and uncomplicated, knowing that Sam won’t really need anything else before he’s drawing his own conclusions,

_Bucky’s in heat._

Steve pulls a spare shirt from his gym bag and over his head before settling against the door again, eyes closed for a few seconds before his phone is vibrating in his hand.

 **Green Eggs and Ham:** _Do I need to come get you before you do something dumb?_

Steve stares at his screen for a moment, wondering how to reply to that honestly when another text comes through,

 **Green Eggs and Ham:** _Or have you already done the stupid thing?_

Sighing, Steve types out a quick reply,

_Yes and no, but don’t come get me._

He can’t leave Bucky, won’t leave Bucky. Not _his_ omega… well, that he isn’t entirely sure on at the moment. But he still won’t leave him, not when he’s in heat, not when he wants him here, not when Bucky needs him to be a solid weight on the other side of the door, not when Bucky smells so damn good and Steve needs to protect him.

 **Green Eggs and Ham:** _Imma need more than that Rogers_

Steve rolls his eyes. He needs to tell Sam more, but he isn’t all that sure how to say it, this is all new to him, he doesn’t know how to even begin talking about this. He stares at his phone for a full minute before he texts back,

_Door locked, Bucky asleep on the other side._

That doesn’t even begin to describe it, but Steve takes a deep breath in before he starts another text and ends up letting his eyes flutter shut as he breathes Bucky’s scent in and can taste raspberry liquorice and glazed apples on his tongue. It isn’t till his phone vibrates again a few minutes later that he manages to open his eyes and think about something other than _his_ omega, (shit, is he _his_ omega?) on the other side of the door.

 **Green Eggs and Ham:** _Uh huh, yeah I’m sure that’s the full story._

Steve can practically see Sam’s unimpressed tone. He wants to tell him more, but on the other hand he doesn’t, this is between him and Bucky, but he needs to make Sam understand, because Sam isn’t shrouded in Bucky’s scent right now, Sam isn’t in love with an omega who is in heat and saying everything he wants to hear, so Steve needs an outside perspective, because he may a bit bias right now.

_I may be helping him through his heat?_

He knows it probably sounds like a pretty bad idea, and he can hear Tony’s voice in his head, but he ignores it.

 **Green Eggs and Ham:** _Would ya look at that, I’m suddenly busy._

Steve smiles at that, not really expecting to get anything else said in return. Sam’s been his friend for years, he knows him by now. Steve chews on his bottom lip for a moment, unsure whether he should or whether he shouldn’t… he shakes his head and quickly types out a brief summary of the last few hours, keeping out some of the details he wants to keep purely to himself, but giving Sam the main gist of it.

There’s no reply for five minutes, which becomes ten and Steve stares at his phone as he takes small sips of his water and wonders whether Sam is going to come pick him up anyway. And then his phone vibrates and he jumps a little, before shushing the door that he just knocked against, wishing he could take back that sound, as Bucky whines a little in his sleep but doesn’t wake.

 **Green Eggs and Ham:** _Be careful Steve._

Steve sighs, running his hand down his face as he groans, before biting on his tongue. He doesn’t know if Bucky’s a light sleeper, but he doesn’t want to wake him, not after he spent a few good hours tiring him out.

_Goodnight Sam._

Almost asleep ten minutes later, Steve’s eyes flutter open when his phone vibrates in his bag. Wondering if it’s important, he reaches blindly for his phone, before unlocking it, his lips curling at the new message,

 **Green Eggs and Ham:** _Ps. Don’t break down the door, I know you want to._

This argument he’s already had twenty times over, a hundred times over, a thousand times over, in his head, and he already knows resolutely what he decides. Part of him, hates himself for it, but the rest of him is grateful, the rest of him knows it’s for the best, so he texts back,

_I won’t I won’t_

before slipping his phone back into his bag and falling asleep against the door, listening to the sound of Bucky’s breathing as he lets his scent wrap around him and fill him up. And while he’d much rather have Bucky in his arms, in truth there isn’t any place he’d rather be right now.

**…**

Everyone’s gone, well not everyone, but the floor is entirely empty and at 2am when someone drunk comes stumbling up the staircase, totally unsuspecting, they are caught a little by surprise to find that not only their friend isn’t home but also that there’s a gorgeous blonde man built like a brick house, dozing off against a door frame.

“Dude ar-” The brunette starts, still a few steps away from Steve.

Steve doesn’t’ really know why, can’t help it, but the first thing he does upon seeing the intruder is growl, deep his chest as his scent spikes and he glares at the brunette.

Hands up in retreat, the man stumbles quickly down the hallway back to the staircase, ready to escape this floor and the snarling blonde who looks ready to snap him in two.

The door comes to a close, muffling the sound of the brunettes retreat and Steve is still growling, his scent flooding the hallway, protective of _his_ omega in heat, (because right now he can’t think to wonder if Bucky is _his)_ ready to fight anyone or anything that poses a threat.

He hasn’t moved not really, but he is still glaring at the door at the end of the hallway, wondering if tonight will bring any other unexpected guests, he growls again at the thought of Rumlow coming back, and his scent spikes again,  seeping the smell of rain, freshly chopped wood and vanilla under Bucky’s door.

He doesn’t even realise he’s woken Bucky up until he hears a soft whine from the other side of the door, “Steve.”

And really he shouldn’t be surprised, how can Bucky sleep with _his_ alpha on the other side of the door giving off waves of his protective, bordering on possessive scent, as he rumbles in his chest, protecting what’s _his._

Steve stops, stops rumbling in his chest, but he can’t stop his scent, so he just leans closer to the door and with his lips almost again the wood he answers, “Yeah baby.”

“You stayed.”

His voice breaks and Steve was to break the fucking door down and pull Bucky into his arms, wants to tell him he’s been ridiculous, wants to kiss his forehead and make that look he knows he’ll have in his eyes fade and make those lips curl into a smile. But he can’t do that, so instead he settles for slipping his fingers under the door as best he can and saying, voice soft, “Course I did baby.”

Bucky’s silent for a few minutes, his scent seeps under the door and Steve fists his hand and rests his forehead against the door as he tries to regulate his scent, tries to keep it from spiking. Bucky’s exhausted, he is too, and he already woke him up with his scent, he doesn’t want to keep him awake,  not when he can’t do it properly, not when he can’t have his hands on Bucky, not when he isn’t _his_ to make moan, not really. _Not yet,_ his brain supplies, and Steve just bites on his cheek and shakes his head.

“Thank you.” Bucky breathes, words barely heard through the door as Steve drifts to sleep.

“You don’t need to,” Steve mumbles back. He doesn’t want to be thanked for staying, he doesn’t want it to be a surprise, he doesn’t want it to be something he may do, it’s something he _will_ do, will always do. He’ll stay as long as Bucky wants him too, as long as Bucky wants him, needs him, he’ll be here.

 Always.

**…**

When he wakes again, he makes sure that Bucky’s asleep, properly asleep, he taps on the door a few times just to triple check, before he strips of his briefs and leaves them by Bucky’s door and heads into his room. He doesn’t want to leave Bucky, but he seriously needs a shower, and to grab a blanket and a pillow if he’s seriously going to commit to sleeping out there.

Pushing his door to a close, he gets moving as fast as he can. He doesn’t know how long Bucky will be asleep for, and he doesn’t want him to wake up and think that he’s gone, not with Bucky in heat, not with everything that’s happened in the last few hours, not with Bucky’s soft whines and perfect utterances, not now he knows that Bucky wants him.

Perhaps not properly, but he’ll take what he can get, for now at least. When his heat over, they will be having a serious talk, but not now, that’ll come later.

Twenty minutes later, after a quick few minute shower, a meal and a change of clothes, Steve is pulling his door to a close before dropping down on the floor outside Bucky’s door, his phone now resting on his bed, the texts from Sam and now Tony forgotten and ignored.

He knows Nat’s number, knows that he could call her, get her to unlock the door, but he can’t. He can’t trust his instincts right now, not with Bucky being Bucky, and certainly not with Bucky smelling this damn good. And Bucky may not even know what he wants right now, so Steve’s phone stays on the other side of a door, just like Bucky.

**…**

A few hours later, Bucky wakes.

Steve’s still asleep when it happens. Fast asleep outside of Bucky’s door, his head resting against his pillow and one hand reaching out to Bucky, through the door, fingers slipping underneath the wood.

Bucky doesn’t have to sound out Steve’s name, doesn’t need to ask a question that seeks confirmation, he knows that Steve is there, he can smell him, and that comforts him. But he can’t see him, he can’t touch him, and god he wants to, he needs to.

He lasts about quarter of an hour, he pees, makes himself a tea and eats some breakfast, before his forehead is pressed against the wood and he is taking in Steve’s scent that is everywhere in his bloody apartment. He lifts Steve’s shirt, buries his face in it, and tries to be quiet, tries his best…

It’s not the small desperate whines that Bucky is making that wakes Steve up, it’s his scent. The scent of red liquorice that is shrouding him, heavier than usual, made thicker by his heat, and god, Steve wakes up with a soft groan in the back of his throat, and his hips grinding against the door to relieve some of the pressure.

“Buc-ky.” Steve had intended the name to come out as some form of question, but it breaks before it gets the chance, the two halves made whole again as Bucky whines in response and another wave of his heat scent hits Steve. Steve moans his name again, and Bucky moans back in response, moans until “Steve” no longer sounds like a word, far less like a name, more of a plea, a promise, a prayer.

Bucky makes a soft desperate sound before he’s whining, “Steve,” even louder against the door.

“Yeah baby.” There it is again, ‘baby’, it just slips out again, like it did when Bucky woke from Steve’s growling. For a moment he wonders if he shouldn’t, if he can’t call Bucky that, if Bucky won’t like that, but then Bucky moans, his scent spiking and Steve smiles.

Bucky’s quiet for a few moment, “I wish I could see you.”

 “I know baby, I know.”

God does he know.

He wants to, no, _needs_ to see him.

But he can’t, he just, he can’t.

He needs to, every instinct in him is fighting to tell Bucky to get away from the door before he breaks it down, but Steve doesn’t let himself be run by instincts, tries his fucking best, and right now, he is being severely tested. He wants to give in to his instincts, he really wants to, but he can’t.

His mama taught him right.

Plus he knows if he breaks that door down _ain’t nothin’ gonna stop his instincts_ , not a simple damn thing. Cause one look at Bucky, he’ll be gone, and his morals, his thoughts, will be gone. One look at _his_ omega, in heat, and wanting him, one whiff of his heat scent without the door between them preventing him from doing what he needs to, he won’t be able to stop.

And Bucky won’t even try and make him.

Bucky says he wants him, and god Steve wants Bucky, not just now, not just cause he smells so intoxicating, not just cause he’s moaning his name on the other side of the door, not just cause Steve’s biting so hard into his lip he’s drawn blood to stop himself from crying out as he strokes himself, but because it’s Bucky.

And god, Steve loves him.

Bucky’s close, Steve can hear it in the hitch in his voice, can smell it, so he presses his lips against the door and speeds up his hand as he says, low and feral, “Come for me baby.”

And Bucky does.

And Steve really wants to break that door down, but he doesn’t have time to think about that for long before Bucky is crying out, Steve’s name falling off his tongue and god, Steve steadies himself against the doorframe as he moans Bucky’s names and the world goes white.

**…**

Part of Steve had anticipated that this would be awkward, that after last night, today would have a few avoided conversations, or stilted discussions, but that was before he remembered Bucky was still in heat, his brain wasn’t really working in the way it usually did, and right now, all Bucky wants is an alpha, and all he wants is Steve.

And just like normal, all Steve wants is Bucky to be happy, (and Bucky, he wants Bucky, but he can’t be selfish, can’t have him if Bucky doesn’t want him to), so there is no way in hell Steve’s going to leave Bucky, not now, not when he needs him, not when he’s in heat, not when Steve’s entire body is telling him to protect _his_ omega.  

**…**

They’ve chatted for hours, attempted to play poker underneath the door, which turned into strip poker, and Bucky’s crazy good so Steve seems to be losing clothes like nobody’s business, and each item gets pushed underneath the door to join Bucky, and after a while Steve starts losing on purpose just to hear Bucky’s moan when he breathes in whatever Steve just pushed under the door.

A few hours later and newly clothed, poker longer forgotten Bucky’s exhausted, Steve can tell that through the door, and he tries to get him to go to his actual bed, tries to get him to take a shower, but Bucky doesn’t want to, and when he gives a soft gasp and his broken voice replies, Steve spends five minutes convincing Bucky that he doesn’t want to go, and that he’ll stay right here.

By the time night is falling, half of Steve’s wardrobe seems to have joined Steve’s shirt on the other side of Bucky’s door. With Bucky in heat, Steve isn’t really able to focus on much at all, but after Bucky comes for a fourth time since their second sunrise on either side of the door, Steve spends the next two hours talking to him through the door, reassuring him that he’s _his_ good omega, before just talking to Bucky about his day yesterday and life in general, cause Bucky _loves_ the sound of his voice, just another gem Bucky has moaned against the door while Steve’s murmuring praises to _his_ omega through the door, as he splays his free hand against the wood, and wishes he could touch Bucky.

Bucky loves his voice, loves it, and Steve grins as he rests against the door, ready for the chance to use that against Bucky tomorrow, when both of them are better rested.

“Goodnight Stevie.” Bucky says, voice barely more than a murmur.

Steve smiles, stretches his fingers under the door, trying his best to reach Bucky as he murmurs back, “Goodnight Buck.” He doesn’t want to pull Bucky out from the almost asleep state he’s in, so instead he shuffles and keeps his eyes on the staircase door at the end of the hallway, and tries to control his scent when he thinks about any possible ‘guests’.

**…**

He spends a full hour staring at the door on the third day, staring at the wood and imaging it splinter. Staring at the only thing separating him and _his_ omega, and he finds himself with an unfathomable amount of disdain for essentially a piece of furniture. He has never felt very strongly about doors, he likes the privacy they allow, but right now, right at this very moment as he glares at the door, hoping in some vain attempt that his glare allow will allow the lock to flick.

He hates doors.

He spends another twenty minutes staring at it as his disdain dissipates. As Bucky sleeps, Steve thinks. With Bucky’s scent not quite as thick and heady, Steve thinks, he stares at the door, presses his hand against it, feels the solid wood beneath his palm, against his skin, and he reconsiders his hatred for the door. He reconsiders his strong feelings against this piece of furniture, and silently thanks it for keeping Bucky safe, for continuing to keep Bucky safe, even though now, right now, he doesn’t really want it to continue doing its job.

He could plead with it, could whisper promises against the oak, but he knows it’ll be to no avail. The door regards him as he regarded it before, with an air of disdain, deeming him unworthy of the man on the other side of the door, the brunette this door is keeping safe, safe from Steve, until it can be assured of his intentions.

Steve rests his forehead against the door, lets his eyes flutter close and listens to Bucky breathing on the other side.

For another fleeting moment he contemplates breaking the door to see him, the door he could easily break, but he doesn’t want Bucky to be left unprotected.

 _He won’t be unprotected._ He thinks to himself, and he knows that to be true, he won’t leave Bucky, but he still won’t break the door down, he can’t break it down for one reason and one reason only.

Bucky isn’t his omega, not really, not truly.

The things he is saying, and the things he’s said in return, god he hopes they are real, god he hopes it’s not just the heat talking, but he can’t be sure, he really can’t be sure.

And he knows without that cumbersome door in the way, without Bucky’s high wall keeping the intruders at bay, without Bucky’s locked door in between the two of them, Steve knows he’ll mate Bucky, knows he won’t be able to resist, and Bucky won’t stop him, not like this, not in heat, not with Steve’s pheromones fucking everywhere, not with Steve smelling so commanding and possessive and protective, even if Bucky wasn’t in heat he wouldn’t be able to think straight, but in heat? He doesn’t have a chance.

And Steve doesn’t want to risk it.

He doesn’t want Bucky regretting this. Bucky’s in heat, Steve’s just out of rut. He knows what he feels for Bucky is more than pheromones and urges, he knows that, but is it the same for Bucky?

That’s a question Steve needs answered, that’s a question that he doesn’t want to ask, not yet at least, not like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, so life got super hectic, so this chapter is even later than I had intended it to be! This week was super long, so writing abo was an obvious solution. Sorry for the lateness, the next chapter will definitely be up much sooner than this one was, should be about a week or two  
> Thanks for all the love last chapter :D xx  
> As usual, please hook me up with some comments, they will totally make my day.


	7. Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one in which the door is unlocked...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied, no new a/b/o universe facts this time round.  
> Lemme know if you have any questions regarding anything about my little a/b/o universe, or the a/b/o universe in general, I will try and answer as best I can.

Four days after Steve slid his shirt underneath the door, Bucky’s heat is finally over.

Four long days of Bucky on one side of the door and Steve on the other is finally over. Four days of neither of them leaving for very long, neither of them able to focus on anything else except for each other and both of them having a new found hatred of Bucky’s door that if Steve was in rut, he wouldn’t hesitate in breaking down.

Steve barely left the hallway all that time. Bucky barely moved from his side of the door. Steve is asleep on the floor when Nat arrives, his head on a pillow and his fingers stretched under the door, into Bucky’s apartment. Nat raises an eyebrow at that but says nothing. She wants to ask, but she already knows, she known for months, not that she’ll tell that to Bucky, not yet at least.

Steve can smell her, he trusts her now, knows she isn’t a threat but her presence still wakes him and he blinks up at her bleary eyed and half asleep before he blinks her into focus and is up on his feet as fast as possible and then Bucky’s door is unlocked and Nat nudges it open, calls out Bucky’s name.

Bucky stirs, groans a little at the door that is pushing against him, and then his eyes flutter open. Shut for a moment, they open again, grey eyes finding Steve before Bucky is grinning, his tired body moving as fast as it can, and then Bucky is on his feet, wrapped in Steve’s jumper, only a thin one, one that barely fit under the door.

On the floor by the door are a few pieces from Steve’s wardrobe, worn for a few hours before being pushed under the door. Steve almost dies at the sight, his clothes on the floor, only seconds ago stacked on Bucky, covering him in a blanket of Steve’s fading scent.

But Bucky doesn’t need the blanket now, not that the door is open, not now there is no longer a few centimetres separating them. Nat smiles at the two of them, smirking when Bucky glances over at her, and then she is stepping back into the hallway with a sigh, pulling the door shut behind her.

Part of Steve isn’t sure what to do, part of him might stand there by the door two steps away from Bucky forever because he cannot move, but another part of him, needs to get his arms around Bucky, needs to get his lips on him, needs to-

He isn’t sure who moves first, and it doesn’t matter because the space between them is closed and Steve’s hands are settling on Bucky’s waist and Bucky’s arms are wrapping around Steve’s neck, and neither of them are thinking of anything else, not of the bag of groceries Nat left on the floor, or how Steve’s back did not take kindly to sleeping outside of Bucky’s door, because all of a sudden, far too many months late, Bucky’s lips are on Steve’s.

He curls a hand around the back of Steve’s neck, already leaning up to kiss, needing to kiss. It’s been far too long, and Steve doesn’t even hesitate before returning the kiss eagerly, needing to taste Bucky. He can’t think, not with the apartment smelling of Bucky’s heat, not with Bucky in his arms now, not with Bucky squirming against him, needy and desperate. Teeth pulling on his bottom lip, Steve moans, and his hands are moving, without his permission, taking Bucky’s thighs in each hand and lifting him up. Bucky takes the hint, wrapping his legs around Steve’s waist and groaning against Steve’s mouth as he slams him against a wall, lips hungrily tugging and caressing.

Hand curling along the sides of Bucky’s neck, Steve rubs his thumb along his jaw before he is sucking kissing against skin, barely able to think of anything beyond Bucky’s pants and breathy moans.

“Buck.” Steve breathes, nuzzling against the brunette before kissing him slowly.

Bucky groans, pulls his lips from his and presses his face into Steve’s neck, scenting himself, as his body goes pliant and he moans against Steve’s skin. Steve doesn’t stop pressing kisses onto Bucky, any place he can get, his hair, his neck, his ear. Bucky whines as Steve pulls back, and Bucky lips find themselves chasing Steve’s, desperate to taste more of him, to taste all of him.

“You need to shower.”

Bucky pulls back a little, as Steve sucks at his collarbone, “You saying I smell Rogers?”

“Fucking amazing yes.” Steve says, smiling against Bucky’s skin as he nuzzles Bucky’s scent glands. He doesn’t move for a full minute, just breathes in Bucky, before he kisses Bucky and with a test of his will, places Bucky’s feet back on the floor and takes a step away from _his_ omega. Steve flicks on the air conditioning, his brain is sort of working right now, and they need to air Bucky’s dorm out, but if they open the windows odds on it won’t end well. Bucky whines at the loss of contact and follows Steve.

“I’ll shower later.” Bucky answers as he wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and presses his lips to his again. He’ll never be able to get over the feel of Steve’s lips against his, how his lips tug and caress his, how Steve makes him feel worshipped with each flick of his tongue, with each and every kiss.

**…**

 “Stevie.” Bucky manages to breath out a few minutes later, lying on his bed, nestled against Steve, his face pressed against his chest and their fingers intertwined. He’s exhausted, utterly exhausted, both of them are, and with Steve’s scent wrapped around him, his heart beat against his ear and his warm strong arms wrapped around him, keeping him safe, Bucky is almost asleep.

Nuzzling at Steve’s neck, Bucky scents himself, body going pliant even though his heat is over, a little bit of it still lingers, but even if it didn’t, Steve’s _his_ alpha now, bonded or not.

Peering down at Bucky, Steve smiles, hasn’t stopped smiling since they lay down, since that door opened, since he pushed his shirt under the door a few days ago. He hadn’t asked a question but he knew it was one, but he doesn’t know what Bucky’s asking, “Yeah Buck?”

“-ove you.” Bucky mutters, the rest of his sentence drops away as he falls asleep, leaving Steve grinning like mad and pressing a kiss into his hair as he whispers, “Love you too Buck, love you too.”

Steve doesn’t want to sleep, not yet, he wants to savour this, wants to stay awake and watch over Bucky, _his_ Bucky, _his_ omega. His smile grows impossibly wider as Bucky snuggles into him further, his fingers curling around his shirt as Steve watches him.

**…**

Bucky wakes up first, shuffles a little in Steve’s firm hold, that he has no intention of leaving any time soon, not after this is what he’s been wanting, and not when it feels perfect. He wakes and glances up at Steve, _his_ Steve, _his_ alpha, and finds himself looking at the fucking sun even with his curtains drawn to a close.

He glances down at his chest, where cotton is covering the scars of old. Steve’s arm is wrapped around him, making him feel safe, and for a few minutes before he slips back into sleep, he wonders if Steve will say if he knows the truth about his scars, if he hears his stories, if Bucky lets him in, will Steve still want him.

Steve doesn’t wake but he does tighten his grip on Bucky, pulls him as close as possible, and without waking he calms Bucky’s mind, enough for him to smile against Steve’s chest and his heart beat and the rise and fall of his chest lulls him back to sleep.

**…**

Bucky wakes again to the press of soft lips against his back, he shifts slightly, his eyes still shut, savouring the moment, savouring the dream before he wakes. But then Steve smiles against his skin, murmurs, “Good morning.” And continues to trail kisses down his spine.

“That it is.” Bucky says, torn between lying there contently and turning round and pulling Steve’s lips to his.

He’s too tired and too busy smiling into the pillow that smells just like Steve, to worry that his shirt is pushed up exposing his skin, to worry what Steve is thinking of each imperfection he finds. It takes him a full minute to realise that Steve is kissing each and every one of them, sucking against the deeper wounds that never quite healed as well as the others, taking Bucky’s wounds and turning them into something beautiful. Bucky shivers as Steve’s lips ghost over his hip, before he’s leaving his mark, hiding past wounds with Steve’s claim, saying without words that he’ll protect him next time.

“God you’re gorgeous.” Steve whispers against his skin, and Bucky finds himself smiling stupidly into the pillow, shaking his head and wondering how after what he can see, Steve can still think that.

For a few minutes he lies there, lies under the warm heavy weight of Steve’s body against his, lets Steve’s scent wrap around him, entwined with his own, and then he is groaning as Steve reaches the top of his briefs and sucks at the base of his spine.

It takes him all of three seconds to roll Steve over and end up straddling him, knees digging into the mattress on either side of Steve’s thighs before his hands are cupping his face. Steve lets a little shocked breath, not entirely sure what just happened, and then Bucky is pressing his lips against his and Steve finds himself moaning into the kiss as Bucky teeth scrape against his lower lip and he pushes Steve up against the headboard.

**…**

“What’s the plan for today?” Steve gets out between kisses twenty minutes later.

“This.” Bucky  breathes against his lips before kissing him again, hands sliding down skin, exploring and touching, like he wasn’t able to do for the past few days, like he’s wanted to do for months.

Bucky’s stomach grumbles and he sighs, drops his head against Steve’s shoulder as Steve glances at the time. “It’s almost 5.”

Bucky blinks, shifts his head and peers at the clock, not quite believing Steve for himself. It can’t be that late can it? Apparently it can. Kissing Steve softly on the lips he looks out the window, “We slept all day?”

Steve’s hands haven’t shifted from where they rest of Bucky’s waist, holding him securely in place, “We were tired.” Leaning forward he nuzzles against Bucky’s scent glands, smiling as he breathes _his_ omega in. Bucky shivers and as Steve pulls away he nuzzles against Steve’s, scenting himself and going pliant.

For a few minutes Bucky sits in Steve’s lap his head tucked under Steve’s chin and Steve presses kisses into his hair. Bucky’s stomach growls again and he stretches his legs out but burrows closer to Steve’s chest, loving the feel of Steve’s arms wrapped around him, a solid weight, grounding him.

“How does this sound for a little slice of heaven, we can order in pizza and then watch a movie in bed.” Steve asks, voice low as Bucky feels himself slipping back to sleep.

Bucky grins, presses a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before clambering out of bed to get the menu stuck against his bar fridge, “See this is why you’re the smart one.”

Steve glances at the bookshelf that sits across from the room, and scans the spines for a moment before realisation hits. “We’re watching it again aren’t we?”

Bucky chuckles and hunts for his phone, “See, smart one!”

**…**

They don’t actually end up watching the movie, not that they haven’t see it a million times already, instead once the pizza is devoured along with a few cups of tea, Bucky learns the taste of Steve’s mouth, and the weight of Steve’s tongue against his. Steve learns where his hands fit perfectly on Bucky’s sides and where to touch to make Bucky keen.

Bucky also learns that they can make out, that their hands can roam and their lips can wander, but that their hands and mouths stay above the waist. He sighs against Steve’s mouth when Steve relocates his wandering hand a third time.

“Really?”

Steve bats his eyelashes, and smiles, raising his eyebrow questioningly, like he doesn’t know what Bucky means, when they both know damn well that he does. Bucky opens his mouth to ask him, but Steve doesn’t play fair, instead he leans closer to Bucky, pulls his body closer to his and before Bucky even realises it, Steve scent is enveloping him and all he can do his press his lips against Steve and moan as he tongue slips between parted lips.

**…**

A few hours later, snuggled up in bed together, teeth brushed but neither showered, Bucky falls asleep to the feel of Steve’s body under his, arms wrapped around him, the rise and fall of Steve’s chest lulling him to sleep. Bucky falls asleep enveloped in _his_ alphas scent, and can’t recall a time he’s even been this happy, this content.

“I love you Steve Rogers.” He murmurs against Steve’s neck, as he slips between sleep and consciousness.

Steve presses a kiss to his forehead, “Love you too baby.”

As Bucky finally crosses the brink, Steve whispers something against his hair, but he doesn’t hear it, and by the time Steve is frowning down at him, decision made and mind still wavering, Bucky is snoring softly against Steve’s chest, unawares of the inner workings of his alphas mind.

**…**

Happiness lasts all of about 20 hours.

Bucky wakes up alone. Wakes up without the feel of Steve’s body pressed up against him, stretches his hand over and instead of landing on Steve’s chest, firm and solid, with his heat beating under his palm, it lands of cotton sheets, faintly warm but empty, his fingers scratching against paper.

Eyes flutter open and then shut and Bucky rolls over away from the sun that is streaking through the crack in his window and falls back to sleep, unaware that it was the closing of his dorm door that woke him in the first place.

**…**

A few hours later Bucky wakes again, blue eyes opening, hoping to find the blonde lying next to him, hoping to see a cup of coffee or maybe even tea sitting on the bedside table, or to hear the shower running or the soft sounds of Steve pottering around just out of view.

But there isn’t anything.

Not a peep, and Bucky sits up, eye sweeping the room as he breathes in and runs a hand down his face as he forces his sore  body out of bed and opening the window before getting in the shower, to wash the last remnants of the heat scent off of his skin.

The note on the bed is left unseen, his fingers long forgotten brushing against the piece of paper sitting there guiltily on the sheets, with ‘Bucky’ written out in long sloping letters.

Bucky spends half an hour in the shower. Washes his hair twice, lets the warm water run down his skin, covers himself in body wash and scrubs everything, everywhere, a few times. And then because he’s exhausted, he blocks the plug and thanks the lord for being the only omega in this bloody place, so getting the biggest dorm with a bath and shower, and fills up the tub before he lies down in it and lies there, getting lost of in his head, thinking about Nat and Clint, thinking about Sam and Tony, thinking about classes he needs to catch up on, essays he needs to write, and tests he should study for, and then he thinks about Steve, thinks about those fuzzy last few days, the days he remembers but only sort of, and he tries to hold onto those fleeting memories before they fade away forever.

He remembers saying the three words he’s been wanting to say for a while, “I love you”, remembers Steve saying them back, whispering them against his hair, kissing them into his skin. He does love Steve, he knows he does. Knows it with each breath, with each beat of his heart, and if he’s been honest with himself, he’s known it for a while, knows that by his mothers’ knowing tone, she knew before he did. And he smiles without even realising, smiles as he thinks of Steve, eyes fluttering shut as he thinks of _his_ alpha until the water gets cold.

**…**

It isn’t till he’s running a hand through his wet hair, towel wrapped around his waist as he searches for his jeans that he notices the folded piece of paper on Steve’s half of the bed.

Bucky groans before picking it up, part of him doesn’t want to unfold it, cause unfolding it means its real, that whatever bubble he is in right now, where Steve is just across the hallway or doing washing or on the phone or getting coffee, is popped. And he’s not ready for that. but he can’t wait, he’s curious and already a little pissed, so he unfolds the piece of paper, dropping his jeans on the edge of his bed as his eyes skim over the words.

“STEVE ROGERS OPEN YOUR FUCKING DOOR!” Bucky is yelling before he is even out of his room. He is not ready to spend another few doors separated by a door, this is fucking ridiculous. He won’t do it. Not after everything, not after… he won’t do it. He’s still wrapped in a towel and he doesn’t’ even give that a moment’s thought. He may be the only omega on this floor and most of the alphas are back, but he doesn’t care.

“Shut the fuck up!” A yell comes a few doors down.

“STOP FUCKING YOUR BEST FRIENDS GIRLFRIEND!” Bucky yells back, recognising the voice without hesitation. The voice doesn’t yell back, but even if it did, Bucky’s not too sure he would hear it over his pounding fist on Steve’s door.

It takes him all of about ten seconds to figure out Steve’s gone, but he bangs his fist against the wood for another full thirty seconds just for good measure. Fuming he glares at the door and strides back into his dorm, slamming the door shut behind him.

He can’t stop now, not when he’s pissed, so he looks for his phone and tries not to scream in frustration when he can’t find out. Giving up Bucky yanks the sheets off the beds and stuffs that and the rest of his clothes into his laundry basket and groans.

Less than ten minutes later he’s back in his dorm, his washing downstairs and his dorm airing out. He spends another twenty minutes cleaning everything, getting his scent and the scent of Steve off fucking everything.

It isn’t till he’s vacuuming, (something that he only ever does after the occasional heat) that he finds his phone, lying underneath his bed with a few missed calls and messages. Ignoring them all, he dials Steve and waits for a few rings, before unsurprisingly it goes to voicemail.

“Hey you’ve reached Steve Rogers, sorry I can’t get to the phone right now, but please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

The beep barely sounds before Bucky is trying his best not to, but not really, so yelling into the phone, “Are you fucking with me right now? Are YOU KIDDING ME? WE NEED SPACE TO SORT THINGS OUT? WHAT THINGS ROGERS?”

He swears under his breath, before he groans and just barely resists throwing his phone across the room. He swears again before throwing his pillow, and sighs at the lack of smashing sound that he really needs to hear right now.

Next he calls Sam, who answers on the fourth ring, “Hey Buc-”

He isn’t in the mood for pleasantries. And much as he likes Sam, he really can’t be bothered with hellos and how are yous right now. So he goes straight to the reason he called, “Is he with you?”

Sam’s silent for a moment, before asking, “Steve?” Not quite sure if that’s the answer Bucky is looking for.

Bucky tries not to be impatient but groans anyway. He knows Sam has a lecture in less than five minutes so he needs to make this quick. “Yes Steve. Did he tell you his bright idea?”

Sam hesitates for a moment before sounding out a carefully considered, “No?”

For a moment Bucky wanders what ideas are flashing through Sam’s mind, but then he spots the note out of the corner of his eye, and his mind is brought back on track. “For us to have some separate time?”

“What?” Sam asks, clearly as confused as Bucky is.

“To sort out how we _really_ feel.”

Sam sighs and if Bucky were to guess, that soft sound was Sam face palming, probably coupled with rolling his eyes.

Bucky waits a few seconds before inquiring, “You didn’t know did you?”

Sam groans, “No, but I’m not fucking surprised.”

Already pretty sure he knows the answer, he asks the question anyway, knowing that the answer he’ll get probably won’t be an honest one, “Do you know where he is?”

“No.”

Bucky knows Sam, knows he tone, knows what he sounds like when he lies, he’s good at that, always has been. Part of him considers not pushing, but the other half is already sounding out the word, “Sam.”

“Give him a few days Bucky, he’ll be back.” Sam says after a few moments. In all honesty, Bucky wasn’t really expecting any other answer. It’s not that Sam’s an alpha and he’s an omega, it’s that Sam is Steve’s best friend, and is loyal to him. And while this isn’t even a little bit preferable, it’s not dangerous, well it might be for Steve depending on how long he stays away from Bucky, cause Bucky may have to punch _his_ alpha in the jaw for being such a stubborn, oblivious idiot. But it ain’t dangerous, so Sam doesn’t feel the need to tell Bucky.

All the same, Bucky groans, runs his face down his hand as he kicks his bed before answering, “Thanks, I guess, bye Sam.”

A tiny sliver of his brain does admit that Steve does make sense, that Steve isn’t talking out of his ass on this one. He does feel flattered that Steve wants him to be sure, but he doesn’t want space, not now, not from _his_ alpha, he wants Steve, not all this space to clear his head. He knows what he wants, he wants Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie it has been a fucking terrible Monday, so some love would be much appreciated to get me through the week.
> 
> Sorry for the ending but the next chapter will definitely be up in about a week!
> 
> Ah Stevie, always so noble yet so oblivious ...


	8. Vagabond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one with the pyjama pants and oatmeal&raisin cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more a/b/o universe facts may be up for the next chapter, but none for this one :)

Bucky doesn’t even glance at his phone before he dials the number he’s known off his heart for years, the first number he calls whenever he needs to call someone, the first number he ever knew, Natasha’s.

Bucky reads Nat the note as soon as she picks up, doesn’t offer an explanation or anything, just reads it out to her, and she’s silent for a few seconds, the only sound of the other end is Clint telling Lucky to give him back his shoe, before Nat says, “Don’t.”

“Which omega are you talking to here?” Bucky asks, a smile only touching his lips, not even trying to curl the corners of them up. He’s too tired, and far too frustrated.

He can hear Clint say ‘Good boy’ in the background and Nat’s quiet chuckle before, “Don’t do anything dumb James.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, not even surprised at her lack of real answer, “Helpful as always love.”

“Some time could do you both some good Buck-o.” Clint calls out from the background.

Not even sure why he’s asking, not really, he asks the question anyway, still managing to sound surprised even though he already knows the answer if he thinks about it. “Am I on speaker?”

“Yup.” Clint yells back, popping the ‘p’ as Nat chuckles again, this time at the surprise in Bucky’s voice, that after all these years it is still adorable and completely unwarranted. He knows them both by know, knows that a conversation like this is on speaker without a moment’s hesitation.

Silent for a few moments, Bucky paces his dorm, eyes on the note before he pulls at his hair, “I don’t need space!”

He doesn’t need space, not at all, not even a little, but more than that, he doesn’t want space. He doesn’t want space at all, he wants to be in Steve’s arms, wants to be wrapped in blanket of the smell of rain and chopped wood, wants to practically taste the hint of vanilla his alpha gives off. He doesn’t want space, doesn’t need it, he wants Steve, not Steve’s dumbass idea to give the two of them space, space that neither of them need. Not truly.

On the other end of the line, there is a few moments of silence, no doubt filled with signing, before Clint is saying, “Yeah you do! We can go shopping.”

Now that Bucky wasn’t expecting. He expected a pep talk maybe, the promise of vodka and a bitching session, but not shopping. Gaze shifting off the note and over to his dresser, he asks, “Why?”

“You need new jeans.” Clint answers without a moment of hesitation. Grey eyes slide to his wardrobe and he wonders when the last time he brought new jeans was. It wasn’t that long ago was it?

Bucky opens his mouth to protest, but then Nat is saying, “And a new shirt, that red one you love so much is-”

Groaning Bucky cuts her off, “I don’t need new clothes!”

Nat and Clint hum in disagreement. “Shut up.”

Nat doesn’t say anything else and she quietly slips away from the phone. There’s a quick silent conversation, and Bucky curses himself for teaching Nat ASL, and for the fact it’s not a video call.

“I know you’re signing about me!” Bucky whines into the phone as he collapses onto his unmade bed and stares up at his ceiling, that was so inviting when he fell asleep last night in Steve’s arms, and now seems to be laughing at him. 

Clint laughs, and replies, “I’ll see you in an hour Buckster.” Bucky opens his mouth to reply but Nat shouts “Bye!” and the call ends before Bucky can even argue. He wants to call back and say he can’t be bothered, wants to wallow and lay in bed for the day, lay on his unmade bed and slam his windows shut and pretend that the world doesn’t exist outside of these four walls for a few hours. He wants to find Steve and punch him in the face before kissing him stupid. He wants to … fuck, there is so much he wants to do.

But he knows he can’t wallow, knows he needs to put on some clothes, check on his washing and finish cleaning is dorm. Because he doesn’t have enough time or even a decent enough oven to bake cookies, cookies chocked full of anger and frustration that will taste just as good if they were made with love and smiles.

Making a mental note to crash Tony’s kitchen and do some hate baking at a later date, Bucky puts his phone on charge before throwing a pillow against the wall with a loud groan, “Steve Rogers I swear to god.”

The pillow doesn’t make the satisfying smashing noise he really wants to hear right now, but he can’t afford to break anything, no matter how therapeutic it might be. Glancing at the clock on his bedside table, he pulls open his dresser and realises he really does need to go shopping. And besides, shopping will be a welcome distraction.

**…**

Shopping was a welcome distraction,  despite himself Bucky smiled and laughed, and almost choked on his water at lunch when Clint got pizza grease all over his jeans he’d just washed and then proceeded to knock his glass of water on himself in a rushed attempt to reach the napkins.

But the happiness and laughter and distraction was all over a few hours ago. The bags sit on the floor, left to be dealt with later, and Bucky is alone in his dorm, pleased with his purchases but no longer concerned with washing and finding new homes for them.

Alone is not something that Bucky dislikes.

He likes it. He likes the peacefulness that comes from it, likes the tranquillity, likes that he doesn’t have to pretend, because no one is watching. He doesn’t have to be someone he isn’t when he’s alone, because he doesn’t have anyone to let down. And besides, he’s let himself down enough times that he doesn’t even care anymore. Alone is good.

But alone is only good when you chose it.

When you chose to be alone, to seek the calm and the still, to seek out the quiet moments and the tranquillity, when it’s everything you want it to be, then it’s good. But when you’re alone and you don’t want to be, the calm isn’t inviting, the still isn’t peaceful but cause for concern, and the silence, the silence is deafening.

Bucky doesn’t like being alone at night. Not when he wants to sleep anyway. Not when he needs to sleep. But Steve’s gone, _his_ alpha is gone and while Bucky is still pissed, while Bucky still wants to punch his gorgeous alpha in the jaw, all he wants right now is for him to wrap his arms around him and hold him close, all he wants right now is his solid weight against his back, his stubble tickling his neck cause Steve was too busy on the other side of the door protecting his omega to shave. Bucky wants Steve.

He wants _his_ alpha.

But instead he has space. Instead he has the silence that he never asked for, nor wanted. So instead of snuggling up beside _his_ alpha like he thought he’d be doing all those hours ago, he’s staring at his empty freshly made bed as he glares at it from where he’s leaning against the doorframe, phone in hand, wanting it to ring.

He knows it won’t.

Knows that _his_ alpha is too bloody stubborn, knows that _his_ alpha thinks this ‘space’ is what they need, or moreso what Bucky needs – he knows that _his_ alpha isn’t going to call. Not tonight, not tomorrow, and probably not the day after either.

The knock of the door startles him, draws him out of his thoughts and back into his dorm. He breathes in, hopeful and yet already knowing it won’t be Steve.

It isn’t, but the corners of his lips still tug into a smile anyway. Not bothering with the peephole, Bucky unchains the door, unlocks it and opens it, wondering if he’ll get a lecture or just a knowing smile.

“Called it.” Nat says as she pulls the door shut behind her, locking and chaining it without a moment’s hesitation.

Clint groans, giving Bucky a warm smile and glaring at his pyjama pants like they’ve offended him at the same time. “You had to wear those didn’t you.” Nat gives Bucky a smug look, and Bucky knows Clint just lost a bet, again.

Flicking on the kettle and pulling three mugs from the cupboard, Bucky rolls his eyes before coming to the defence of his pants, “What’s wrong with my pants? They’re warm, they’re comfortable, I like them, Steve likes them…” He trails off after that, finds his gaze trailing back to the door, the door that he spent the better part of four days pressed up against, with Steve on the other side. And now the door is easy unlocked Steve isn’t waiting on the other side.

Clint notices the shift in the room, and slips an arm Bucky’s shoulder as he coos, “Well if Steeb likes them then that changes everything.”

Nat chuckles behind them and Bucky groans as Clint finds the teabags. The bags containing new clothes sit on the floor by the dresser, not opened, not yet, and so Bucky’s ratty old pyjama pants that he loves so much are spending another night out of the dresser, and avoiding the trash where Nat thinks they belong. Ignoring the way Nat’s eyes sweep the room, Bucky instead chooses to focus on Clint’s new nickname, and asks, even though he already knows the answer, “Have you been talking to Tony?”

“Our paths might have crossed, once or a dozen times.” Is all Clint says, as he gives Bucky an innocent smile, and nudges his hip with his, pushing him out away from the kettle as it boils away, telling Bucky that he has this.

Nat’s remaking the bed for no apparent reason by the time the tea is made, and Bucky is leaning against the doorframe again, wondering how long Steve deems long enough in terms of space, wondering if Steve means days or weeks. Because he can’t do weeks, he’s done hours and he’s already had far too much space.

“You should change your password James.” Nat tsks as she logs into Bucky’s laptop, and Bucky just rolls his eyes. She’s the only one who knows it, well apart from Clint, and possibly Darcy, and Bucky really can’t be bothered, not when she could easily hack into it if she wanted to.

Bucky knows what’s going to happen next, and calls, “Bags the middle” before making a dash to his bed. Nat’s reaching out to bookshelf and grabbing the case she’s after without looking and Clint is kicking off his shoes, but both glance over at Bucky and give him equally unimpressed looks.

Tea finished or forgotten half an hour later, Bucky falls asleep to Clint’s chuckling and to sound of Phoebe’s guitar, he falls asleep with Nat’s fingers running through his hair and the sound of Chandler’s voice in his ears, he falls asleep nestled between his best friends, his siblings that aren’t his by something as accidental as blood, but by choice. He falls asleep as the tale of six friends plays on his laptop, resting on Clint’s lap and tilted to face the rest of them.

He falls asleep missing Steve but not as badly as he was an hour ago, because he falls asleep feeling safe and secure between the redhead and the sandy blonde who’d saved him and he’d saved over and over.

From where he left it on the floor next to his bed, his phone screen doesn’t light up, no new messages flash across his screen and no number rings his. But a few kilometres away, Steve stares at his phone, knowing he can’t call but desperately wanting to. Steve stares at his phone wondering if _his_ omega is safe, wondering if he made the right choice, but knowing that he has.

Bucky won’t agree with that verdict, but Steve knows his right … or at least he bloody hopes so.

**…**

After waking up beside Clint, who was cuddled up next to him, drawn to what was left of Bucky’s heat scent, that most alphas couldn’t smell, but a fellow omega could; Bucky had slipped out of bed and roused Clint with a fresh cup of coffee.

Nursing his second cup of coffee, Clint’s eye slide over Bucky and he sighs, “You sure you ready?” Bucky just arches his eyebrow as he ties up his laces. “You’re just outta heat Buck-o.”

“You coming or what?” Bucky asks instead of an actual answer. An answer that Clint knew he wasn’t going to get, and a question that he had been waiting for since he was awake enough to actually process the look in Bucky’s eyes.

Downing the rest of his cup, Clint slips into his boots and starts lacing them up. “I’ll text Nat and let her know we’re on our way.”

Bucky nods in reply. Unplugging his phone for the charger he stares at the screen for a few seconds, stares at the image on his lock screen, before he shakes his head and shoves his phone into his back pocket and steels himself.

He can’t be thinking about Steve right now.

Even though he can’t stop.

**…**

A few hours and a lecture (by a professor with a lecture hall few of students, not one by Nat) later, Bucky is outside Tony’s apartment door, his bag slung over his shoulder and wearing a new pair of grey track pants, since his old pair mysteriously disappeared sometime between last night and this morning (he’s not blaming Nat, but he totally is).

“After- well morning for you I guess.” Bucky smiles as Tony opens the door, looking like he’d been woken by Bucky’s knock.

Tony looks him up and down before heading back into his apartment and gesturing Bucky to follow. “Darcy warned me you might show up.”

“Warned?” Grey eyes scan the apartment as he kicks off his shoes and Bucky finds himself subconsciously looking for signs of Steve even though he knows he’s not here.  He can smell Tony’s heat scent through the apartment, and can’t even catch a whiff of Pepper, let alone another alpha.

Tony pours himself another cup of coffee and raises his eyebrow at Bucky who shakes his head, and Tony explains, “She told me to take the plastic seals off the oven stuff, cause you might be personally offended that I’ve never used my oven.”

Chuckling in reply, Bucky sets his bag down on Tony’s counter top and says, “Thanks by the way, I-”

The omega shrugs, “I did offer.”

Leaning against the counter, Bucky scans the kitchen, wondering if Tony actually has any baking pans or trays or even bowls to bake with. He brought somethings, but he probably should’ve called ahead and sussed out what he needed. “Yeah but I wasn’t sure if you were serious or not.”

Tony just shrugs again, takes another sip of his coffee before answering, “Well someone should use it, it seems kinda sad to just let it sit there. Plus you’re making oatmeal and raisin cookies right?”

Bucky goes to unzip his bag, but hesitates. He hadn’t intended to, but he could. Glancing over to Tony, and fighting the urge to go and hug him as he’s only a day out of heat, Bucky starts, “I’d have to grab some raisins for the store but-”

Tony opens the cupboard doors, the doors that were empty last time Bucky was here, barring a few packets of chips and a jar of Nutella. “I heard you make the best oatmeal and raisin cookies.” The cupboard isn’t empty now, instead its half filled with baking ingredients, including raisins.

“Darcy?” Bucky asks and Tony nods. “They’re your favourite huh?”

Tony hesitates for a moment, goes to say something and catches himself. After another sip of his coffee he shrugs and says, “Something like that.” Bucky’s lips part to say something reply but before he can say anything, Tony continues, “I got everything you might need.”

“And then some.” Bucky mutters as Tony opens the fridge. “You didn’t have to, I brought-”

Tony shakes his head. “Buck-o they’re for you, I sure as hell ain’t gonna use them. Make a batch of your infamous oatmeal and raisin cookies and we’ll call it even.”

Ignoring the nickname Bucky asks, “You sure?”

“Course. Now I’ll leave you to it. Stereos all yours, I’ll be in my office if you set fire to anything.”

**…**

Bucky loves baking, but he doesn’t do it often. More often than not he stress bakes or rage bakes. He baked two cakes, 48 muffins and over two dozen cookies when Clint was in a coma for three days.  The only reason he didn’t bake anymore was because he spent the rest of the time in the hospital by the omegas bedside, itching to go back to Nat’s and bake more.

So with Steve off giving the two of them completely unnecessary and unwanted space, Bucky is not exactly rage baking, but it isn’t far from it. He knows his alpha means well, knows that his honour and nobility gets him a little confused at times, and has him acting in ways that while are sweet and courteous, are annoying as fuck as well.

He bakes for a few hours, cleaning as he goes, blaring music from the stereo and hoping that if he’s disturbing Tony, he’ll just come out and tell him. Although he figures a moment after that thought, if his music is getting too annoying, Tony may just destroy the stereo without even having to leave his room. He has to pause for a few minutes as he winces, but he waits for the pain to pass before going back to mixing and ignores Nat’s voice in his head telling him to sit down.

**…**

Everything cleaned up, cupcakes iced and brownie cooling off, Tony sits on the counter, his legs swinging as he has another mouthful of milk before biting into his fourth oatmeal and raisin cookie in the last ten minutes.

Moaning into the bite, just as he’s down a dozen times already, Tony smiles, “Darcy was right Buck-o, you’re a god.”

Bucky smiles as he dries off another measuring cup, “Thanks, they’re all yours.”

Tony’s eyes widen for a moment, “Really?”

Bucky nods in reply, he’d always intended to give Tony them all. He may not know why Tony loves them (well aside from the fact he makes amazing oatmeal and raisin cookies), but it’s the least he can do.

**…**

Two hours and Chinese takeaway later, Bucky is packing the cupcakes and brownie into his bag. Tony has been tinkering with something that somewhat resembles a radio for the past two minutes, and Bucky knows there is something he’s been wanting to say, or figuring out how to say.

Placing their finished cups of tea in the sink, Bucky leans against the bench and gives Tony a pointed look.

Tony puts the radio down, and slides off the bench before he runs his tongue over his bottom lip. He hesitates for another moment, then shakes his head and says what he’s been trying to for the last half hour, “For what it’s worth, Steve really does love you, and this ‘space’ thing, is his weird way of showing you how much. By doing this, he thinks he’s protecting you.”

Heart fluttering at ‘really does love you’ Bucky steels himself and asks, “From who? Him?”

“Yeah.” Tony nods, before adding, “And you.”

Bucky sighs as he slings his bag over his shoulder. This doesn’t surprise him, not in the slightest. He does find his lips curling into an involuntary smile at Tony telling him Steve loves him. He knows it already, feels it in Steve’s gaze, tastes it in his kisses, but it’s still nice to hear.

“Thanks Stark.” Bucky wraps his arms around Tony and pulls the omega into a hug. Without realising it, he finds himself breathing Tony in and holding him close for a few seconds, lost in the scent of oil, scotch with a hint of freshly mown grass.

Pulling back from the hug, Tony pulls open the door and Bucky gives the kitchen one last sweep time before heading into the hall. He made sure he’d cleaned everything up and left nothing behind, well except for a container or two full of oatmeal raisin cookies that he’s fairly sure Tony will live off for the next day or so.

“Bucky?” Tony calls after him as he’s five steps from the door. “My ovens always open, if you want to, or just to, yeah?”

Bucky grins, can’t help himself, doesn’t even consider his lips traitorous as a second later Tony smiles in return. Nodding, Bucky regards Tony for a moment before his grin widens a little more, “Yeah.”

**…**

All day he’s kept himself busy, kept his mind occupied. But now he’s trying to sleep, now his essay is finished and he’s read the pages he needed to, now he’s alone, his mind isn’t occupied. Well not in the way he wants it to be.

Bucky watches the clock for twenty minutes, watches the numbers slowly tick by and wonders how twenty minutes can feel like hours.

He makes it to 1am before he’s groaning and rolling out of bed, pulling on a jacket and stuffing his feet into boots and leaving his dorm. It’s dark out, but there are still people scattered about, and Bucky keeps his head down and just lets his tired feet lead him to, well home.

He knows the fastest route, knows all the routes there, and takes the one that Nat would tell him not to take at 1am, but it is the quickest, and before he can start wondering whether or not he should of just stayed home, he is raising his fist to knock quietly and Nat is pulling open the door before his fist even makes contact on with the wood.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d actually come.” Nat says instead of a greeting. Bucky nods and accepts the cup of tea she pushes against his palm. “Your tea’s cold.”

Bucky takes a long sip before smiling, “For you perhaps.”

Shifting to sit on the couch, Bucky notices a book on the floor and moves a little too fast to dodge it and winces, hand going to his side before he can catch himself. Nat gives a soft sigh but doesn’t say a word when Bucky glances up at her. “Don’t say it.”

She doesn’t have to, her expression tells her what Clint already did this morning, he wasn’t ready.

Nat doesn’t say a word, just heads off to get the first aid kit, and nods at Bucky. Stripping off his jacket and his shirt, he takes another sip of his tea. Bottle of vodka in one hand, intended for neither to drink, Nat stares at Bucky for a few moments, taking everything in before she sighs, her expression falling as she says softly, “Talk to me James, I know that head of yours will be getting terribly loud.”

Bucky doesn’t even try to disagree. There’s one person in the world he trusts more than anyone, one person who he can never lie to, so he fists his hand and starts to talk.

**…**

“He’ll be back soon.” Clint mumbles sleepily half an hour and a few stitches later, as Bucky crawls into bed after Nat.

Bucky had fully intended to sleep on the couch, but Nat wasn’t having a second of that, and once she threatened to wake Clint up and allow him to weigh in on it, Bucky just sighed and followed Nat into her room. With Nat in the middle, Bucky snuggles up beside her, his back to her as he feels two pairs of arms wrap around him.

“I hope so.” Bucky murmurs back, not quite believing it, but seriously hoping that Clint is right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first of many Bucky chapters to come :) But next one is Stev-o.
> 
> So just a little over a week, sorry about that, but thanks to everyone who commented on the last chapter, it really made me feel better :D  
> I really want to say that the next chapter will be up really soon, but it will probably be a few weeks.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for the love, and keep those comments coming!  
> Love y'all x


	9. Queens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve loves the photo. And stares at it for a minute before glancing up again, wondering if a mere glimpse of his omega will be enough.  
> He doesn’t think so.  
> He knows it won’t be, but a mere glimpse is all he’s giving himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more a/b/o universe facts: (This one may is probably relevant to only my a/b/o universe tbh.)  
> Omegas do not normally snarl unless they, their mate or their children are threatened. It is not instinct for omegas to growl, it is something learned, something that only few omegas do, as it is not easy for omegas to effectively growl. An omega who can growl, easily and effectively have known hard times, have known violence, and have had to protect themselves or those they love. While omegas can growl, omegas cannot rumble, not in the same way an alpha can, or anything close.
> 
> Also warning for this chapter, Bucky and Steve have a little tussle, mainly Bucky punching. It isn't heavy violence, but it is a small fight scene.

Steve only lasts 62 hours.

He wanted to last more, to make a solid three or four days at least apart from Bucky. He wanted to last longer, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t last longer, he barely lasted this long. The only reason he lasted this long is because he knows that’s it’s what he needs to do.

Because Bucky needs time, needs time to think about what he really wants without Steve there distracting him. He needs to be sure that he wants Steve, that this isn’t the heat talking, that this isn’t him being naïve and inexperienced, that this is what he wants. Not that Steve thinks he is naïve and inexperienced, after the scars he saw littering Bucky’s chest, he doesn’t think that at all, but he wants Bucky to be sure, to be totally sure. Because once they bond, there isn’t any going back. In a way, Steve is giving the both of the space, not just Bucky, because he needs space as well. Needs space away from _his_ omega not only so that Bucky can figure out what he wants, but to allow Steve to be completely sure that he loves Bucky as much as he thinks he does. If they bond, _when_ Steve thinks fiercely, there is no going back once Bucky is _his,_ Steve shivers at the thought from where he stands leaning against a lamppost just before 8pm.

It’s dark now, been dark for an hour and a half already, and Steve knows that Bucky’s last lecture ended a few hours ago, and that he’ll be in the library. And he only wants to see him, he’s far enough away that Bucky won’t notice him, he just wants to see him and then he can leave Bucky alone for another day or two, leave Bucky alone to think, leave Bucky to make a decision.

Should he have stayed and had a discussion about all this instead of just giving Bucky space?

But he intends to have that discussion in a day or two.

So Bucky can have time to think before they took about this, so he doesn’t influence his decision, so that Bucky can make this decision and not regret it. Because Steve wants him, god he does, he loves him, and he won’t regret this, but he will if he knows that he isn’t want Bucky wants not truly. Over the past 62 hours Steve has once again reached the realisation that he loves Bucky, and will do so forever, he wants him to be his, there is no question of that, but he still isn’t sure that feeling flows both ways. Not yet. Bucky can only bond once, and god he wants to be that once, but it’s more important than him, it’s about Bucky.

Shifting slightly, Steve pulls his hand out of his pocket and peeks at the time. It’s 8.02.

He has a few missed calls, ones that he won’t answer, not for a few days at least.

He’s listened to Bucky’s messages, asking him what the fuck he is thinking and why doesn’t he just come back. He’s listened to Tony scolding him down the phone, telling that although ‘It ain’t none of my business Rogers, get your ass back here to your omega.’ Steve didn’t really expect Tony to understand, but part of him assumed that at least Sam would, and while he hasn’t outright said that Steve needs to pull his head out of his ass and come back, he’s heavily implied it on more than one occasion. There’s no call for Nat, no messages from her either, and Steve isn’t entirely decided on whether that is a good thing or not. Clint has sent a few texts, telling him that space is overrated and also an image of Bucky in skinny jeans, a grin on his face as he looks at Nat mid twirl beside him.

Steve loves the photo. And stares at it for a minute before glancing up again, wondering if a mere glimpse of _his_ omega will be enough.

He doesn’t think so.

He knows it won’t be, but a mere glimpse is all he’s giving himself.

He doesn’t deserve more at the moment, and he needs to give Bucky space, needs to let him think. It’s not that he thinks Bucky is irresponsible, that he can’t think for himself, he just … he knows how chemicals can affect their brains, knows that what they think may not be what they actually think a few days later without heat or rut or scents fogging up their mind.

Glancing over to the library, he scans the building, eyes picking up the lights and lingering on the front door for a few moments. He’s wondering if Bucky’s planning on staying a little longer than usual, when he hears a snarl from behind him.

Turning he doesn’t even get to breathe in to detect whether his new friend is an omega or an alpha before a fist hits him in the stomach, hard enough to knock the wind out of him and force him to stumble back a few steps.

He groans, hands going to his stomach, and doesn’t even have a chance to catch his breath before another fist comes swinging, knocking him right in the jaw.

He curses, spits out blood and inhales sharply.

Steve’s eyes widen, and when another fist comes towards him, he doesn’t even register it until it’s hit his face again and he’s head pounds and he tastes more blood in his mouth.

In the dim light under the lamp, his eyes focus on the figure in front of him. He can’t make out much, but he can make out the brunette is pissed. And to be honest, he’s a little surprised by the reaction he’s getting.

Steve has enough sense to block the next punch, but doesn’t bother throwing one back, doesn’t really bother defending himself. He figures the next punch will be to his gut, but instead the figure in front of him sweeps his legs out from under him, and in his surprise Steve’s back hits the grass and he groans.

He can smell him now, can smell him as he spits out blood onto the grass and looks up at the omega who is looming down on him, looking less than impressed. “Bucky, it’s me, it’s Steve.”

 Bucky’s expression doesn’t change, instead he’s straddling Steve without a thought, and is spitting, “Steve fucking Rogers.” enunciating each word with a punch.

Steve grabs at Bucky hands, tries to stop him as he nods his head, agreeing, “Yes!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Bucky yells at him, as he digs his knees into Steve’s side. Steve is still gripping onto his hands but he’s not really holding them anymore, Bucky has Steve’s hands by his wrists. Steve doesn’t know how he slipped out of his grip, but as Bucky yells, “You think I couldn’t smell you? You think I didn’t know you’d be here? You think I don’t know you’re silhouette?” he puts Steve’s hands on the grass above his head and glares down at him.

Steve opens his mouth to say something before another fist hits his face and Bucky glowers down at him, his legs trembling as he growls at Steve. Steve meets Bucky’s eyes, finds his hands straying from the   “WHY ARE YOU STILL HITTING ME?”

Bucky groans before he yells at the alpha who is nestled between his thighs, “Cause you’re the dumbest shit alive.”

“Bucky!” Steve warns as he catches Bucky’s hand. It’s easy to catch, wasn’t going to be a hard punch anyway, but Steve still fixes Bucky a look.

Bucky pulls his hand free and glares down at Steve, not even caring that _his_ alpha is lying on the wet grass. “What were you even thinking?”

“I was-”

Bucky doesn’t let him finish, because he knows the answer and he doesn’t care for it. Instead he ignores how Steve’s hands on his thighs are comforting and yells, “You weren’t! You weren’t fucking thinking! What the fuck Steve? You just disappear without a word-”

“I left a note.” Steve interrupts pathetically.

The brunette gives him a look and forgets the rest of his sentence as he throws his hands up into the air and ignores the couple that walk past giving them an odd look as he yells, “Oh that makes everything better.”

“I had to give-” Steve starts. He knows that Bucky doesn’t really get it, his messages have made that much blatantly clear, but Steve knows why he did, knows that he did it for a reason, that he needed to do it.

Bucky doesn’t give a shit about his explanation, not when he knows what his dumbass alpha was attempting to achieve. So instead he digs his left knee into Steve a little as he glares, “Fuck off.”

Steve takes a moment, watches Bucky’s hands which fall to his sides and don’t shift towards his face again, so Steve props himself up on his elbows as he asks, “What?”

Bucky rolls his bottom lip between his teeth as he drags a hand through his hair and sighs, seemingly disappointed at Steve. Not because Steve left, he’s pissed at that, but disappointed that Steve isn’t getting this. He’s disappointed that this probably didn’t even really occur to him at all.

“I didn’t need space, I don’t need space. I love you. You think I didn’t mean it?” Bucky needs Steve to hear this. Not just listen, but hear it. Actually properly hear it, and know it’s the truth.

Steve sighs, pushing himself closer to Bucky as he starts, “I think-”

Bucky shakes his head. He doesn’t want to hear what he thinks, not now, not really. His question wasn’t a real question, it shouldn’t have been a question. It’s not Bucky that’s unsure, he knows what he wants. It’s Steve that’s unsure, not about himself, no, it’s because he can’t believe that someone, well not only someone but Bucky, that Bucky could love him, that Bucky could know him and still want him, that Bucky wants to spend the rest of his life with him. That’s why he gave Bucky space. Not that he’s aware of it, not really, but Bucky is. Bucky knows how Steve’s head gets loud, that he doubts himself, that he can’t see how bloody amazing and brilliant and kind and smart and gorgeous he is.

So instead of going into that right now, because Bucky doesn’t have the patience to convince _his_ omega that he hasn’t seen for 62 hours that he is good enough, that he is more than enough, that he is all Bucky could ever want, does want. Instead of saying any of that, he meets Steve’s gaze, holds it firm and steady before he says, “Well stop thinking Steve and kiss me cause god I’m still pissed but I need to taste you right now.”

Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s moving before he really realises it, his hands are cupping Bucky’s cheeks and he is pressing against his mouth against his. At first it’s soft and chaste, but then Steve’s tongue is running along Bucky’s bottom lip before Bucky’s lips part and Steve wonders how he lasted 62 hours without Bucky. Bucky moans into the kiss when Steve uses one had to thread his fingers through Bucky’s hair and the other to grab Bucky’s thigh and pull him impossibly close.

On the grass next to the lamp post, the two of them are ignored by the passer-by’s, but they don’t go unnoticed, not with both of their scents flaring, not when Bucky bites Steve’s lip hard enough to draw blood and Steve is moaning against Bucky’s lips as he kisses Bucky harder.

“I missed you so much.” Steve murmurs against Bucky’s skin, his lips brushing against Bucky’s jaw before he’s nuzzling into his omega’s neck, letting out a soft moan when he catches the scent of his body wash on Bucky’s skin.

“Missed you too Stevie.”

**…**

An hour and a half later, the two of them are lying on Bucky’s bed, Steve showered and in fresh clothes that are grass stained and Bucky in his grey trackpants that Steve doesn’t want to question, but wonders when he went shopping.

Their teas finished and abandoned on the table alongside their phones, they don’t care for the rest of the world, not as Steve strokes Bucky’s hair. Bucky’s resting on Steve’s chest, feeling each rise and fall of his chest, his arm wrapped around Steve’s waist, his left leg lightly pinning Steve’s legs to the bed. A silent reminder, that Bucky is not letting him bugger off again, especially not now.

Content, Bucky breathes Steve’s scent again, getting lost in the smell of freshly fallen rain. Tilting his head up, he takes Steve’s chin in his fingers. He presses a soft kiss to his lips before he tells Steve very sternly, "I'm still mad at you you know?"

Steve chuckles and then winces, "I'm made aware every time I breathe buck,"

"Come on, I didn't hit you that hard.” Bucky glances up at Steve through his lashes, watching him carefully for a few moments, assessing his injuries, and wondering if he did punch _his_ idiotic alpha a little too hard.

"Hmm," Steve hums content as Bucky presses a kiss to the base of his neck before trailing kisses to his collarbone. 

Bucky sucks at the skin there, branding Steve before he murmurs against reddened skin "And you deserved it."

Steve opens his mouth to argue, lips parting but no words come out, and as Bucky glances up at him through long lashes, arching an eyebrow as he does so, Steve shuts his mouth and let's his head fall back against the couch.

"That's what I thought punk." Bucky says smugly. Steve just rolls his eyes, sighing softly at _his_ omega. _His_ omega who is back in his arms where he belongs, right where he belongs and where he shouldn’t have left in the first place.

Steve still thinks he’s right, still thinks that his plan was necessary, that the days apart were crucial. Bucky still knows that while Steve is looking out for him, looking out for his future and his interests, that the space didn’t stem from that, but instead from the idea that Steve has that he is simply not good enough, that he doesn’t deserve Bucky, that Bucky deserves better.

But what Steve doesn’t understand, is that Bucky doesn’t deserve Steve, not at all, something that Bucky wholeheartedly accepts and yet would be frowned at by Nat for admitting to thinking it. Bucky knows that Steve isn’t the one who isn’t good enough, who isn’t deserving … it’s him. And part of him thinks he should let Steve find someone who is good enough for him, but he’s too selfish to let him go.

Steve seems to know, and yet doesn’t, but he does what he mostly always does, he says what he needs to. “I love you.” He murmurs against Bucky’s hair and wraps his arms protectively around Bucky as he breathes him in, his scent spiking and Bucky can’t help but smile.

He may not deserve Steve, Steve may be too good for him and this man may be the death of him, but he doesn’t hesitate before he’s lips are shaping out the words against Steve’s skin, “I love you too Stevie.”

**…**

Nat glares at Steve when they walk into the Red Room hand in hand for the morning coffee fix the next morning. She softens up a little at the dopey expression on Bucky’s face at Steve’s return, but Bucky is well aware she has words with Steve when Bucky goes over to talk to Peter and ask him about how life’s going for him.

Clint doesn’t mention Steve’s space giving, but Steve does trip over a few times in Clint’s presence over the next two days. No concrete face confrontations, but stumbles and hot coffee spilled on self. Steve thanks himself that Clint seems content with that, and after Steve almost lands face first into Tony’s coffee table, Clint gives him a smile and he knows its over.

Sam doesn’t lecture Steve about his little adventure, but he does tell Steve that perhaps next time he should talk to him about before he does something that he thinks is a good idea. He tells him over a cup of tea that not all of Steve’s ideas are good ones and he often needs to consult a second, third or even fourth opinion before he goes buggering off again, for ‘space’.

Tony doesn’t talk to him for the first half hour he spends at his house and when he does, he just mutters something about oatmeal and raisin cookies before he glares at Steve and leaves the room, nursing his coffee in one hand.

All in all, within three days life returns to normal.

Steve sleeps in Bucky’s bed, his arm wrapped protectively around _his_ omegas middle and Bucky cuddles up against _his_ alpha, and there is no one else in the world that either of them would rather be. Steve catches up on the lectures he’s missed, he writes a rushed essay and falls back into life before the ‘space’.

The only difference is now he feels more comfortable. Now he feels more, sure.

He knows it’s dumb, he knows that those 62 hours of space did not reveal anything new to him, not really. He already knew how he felt about Bucky, already knew that he wanted him to be _his_ and that he wanted to be _his_ in return. But now he knows that’s what Bucky wants, that even though he isn’t good enough for Bucky, even though Bucky is practically perfect in any way that matters to Steve, Bucky wants him. And Steve is too selfish to let Bucky go. (Little is he aware, Bucky feels the same way about him.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing abo is good for the soul, hence you guys getting this chapter and probably the next one sooner than I originally predicted.  
> Today was good, this week not so much, so some love would be much appreciated.  
> We’re getting close to Christmas time in this fic! So you guys should be amped. Also a word to the wise, I’m not an American (which you probably picked up on as I put a ‘u’ in colour) so I am not 100% sure how American Christmas holidays actually work, and where exactly they fall – but I’m pretty sure I’ve got this down … mostly :D Anyways I'm am sure that the exact holiday dates won't be what you'll be focusing on ;)  
> Also much love and thanks to everyone who comments and kudos and subscribes xx


	10. Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beanies, beer stained shirts and bad dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some important things to note, if you haven't read the comments sections for the last chapter.
> 
> The reason for the tussle outside of the library is because Steve left basically straight after Bucky's heat, and there was a loss of contact for that amount of time, when Bucky saw, or more specifically smelt Steve, his hormones went a little crazy. Only a few days out of heat omega hormones, added with missing Steve and being annoyed at him - resulted in that scene. What took place outside the library was definitely a result of the a/b/o dynamics, and not a a reflection of their relationship and definitely not how Bucky would have reacted given this fic was in a different universe.
> 
> Also in regards to Steve being blamed and everyone siding with Bucky. It wasn't the fact that Steve gave them space, (which they may or may not have needed) it was the way he went about it. Sure he left a note, but their friends, especially Sam think this was something that needed to be discussed beforehand. And yes, for Steve it was not much fun either but he was not without support. Nat definitely understands what Steve did, but she's Bucky's best friend so she doesn't hesitate to take Bucky's side on this. Clint is Bucky's best friend as well, so he takes his side as well, and as an omega he doesn't really understand what Steve was trying to do. Sam understands what he did and why he did it, but he wished that Steve came to him before he did it, because Sam thought that Steve should have talked it over with Bucky before just leaving with only a note as explanation. As an omega, Tony takes Bucky's side over Steve's, because while he sort of understands what Steve was aiming for he doesn't really, but what he does understand is how Bucky felt.
> 
> (These sort of count as a/b/o universe facts)

They need to talk about this.

They need to talk about what happened. Bucky knows that. He knows that he needs to broach the subject; that they actually need to discuss Steve buggering off for 62 hours. They need to talk about it. But for some reason he doesn’t bring it up. Not yet.

They’ll deal with it, but not now. He doesn’t want to deal with it now. He doesn’t want to yell at Steve, doesn’t want to tell him that although he understands (slightly) where he was coming from, that Steve should not just have left, that he should have talked to Bucky not just left a note.

Bucky is an omega, but he isn’t incompetent. They are both adults, both consenting adults that entered into this relationship entirely willingly, and Bucky doesn’t need to be saved by Steve, he doesn’t need to babied or treated as less than equal in this relationship.

He may be an omega but that doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of making his own decisions, that doesn’t mean that he isn’t capable of knowing what he wants and being able to express that both with words and without. (He tells this all to the mirror when Steve’s at a lecture.)

He gets where Steve was coming from, understands it was from a place of love, that Steve was looking out for him and doing it with Bucky’s best interests at heart. Bucky knows Steve loves him, that he only wants what is best for him – but he needs Steve to also understand that Bucky doesn’t need to be treated like a child. He knows he has seen the scars that litter his chest. He knows that Steve wants to ask about them but wants Bucky to tell him in his own time. And he will.

Piece by piece, Bucky is handing Steve is heart, baring his soul. And for this to work, for him and Steve to actually work, Steve cannot make decisions unilaterally without consulting Bucky. Bucky trusts Steve, trusts him without hesitation or caution, and while Nat still doesn’t deem that entirely wise, she can find no fault in Steve (and boy has she looked). Bucky trusts Steve, but he needs Steve to trust him. He needs Steve to trust that Bucky knows what he wants. He needs Steve to trust that Bucky wants Steve just as much as Steve wants him.

Ultimately what Bucky is hoping for is that Steve got this out of his system. That he has realised now that while Steve is the alpha and Bucky the omega, it doesn’t mean that Steve should treat Bucky as anything less than equal in their relationship. Bucky doesn’t want to bring it up because he is fairly sure that Steve learnt from this. Because while Steve left a note, he shouldn’t have left with anything less than a conversation, he should have spoken to Bucky without just leaving. If they needed space, they should have decided it together, not Steve deciding unilaterally that space was what they needed.

Bucky smiles at the mirror when he finishes, the rant out of his system (for now), then pulls on his coat, wraps a scarf around his neck and goes to meet Nat and Clint down at the Red Room for coffee.

**…**

Steve’s mission in life still seems to be frustrating Bucky. And it is working. It is killing Bucky just a little inside, because even though Bucky is pretty damn sure that there few days apart was all Steve needed to understand that Bucky wants him, Steve demands they still take it slow.

Like really slow.

Really really slow.

Bucky isn’t up for that at all, isn’t even a little bit keen, not at all. He understands it, sure, well not really but sort of, but he isn’t even a teeny bit on board with this idea. Steve can barely control himself, and Bucky cannot understand why he is trying, why he is bothering to fight pretty much every instinct in him. Steve wants to do what is right, he always does, and with this, there is no exception, but Bucky cannot understand what Steve is waiting for, why Steve is wanting to do what is right, when obviously what is right is giving into his instincts and fucking Bucky against a wall cause if he doesn’t do it soon, Bucky is going to lose his bloody mind.

Bucky likes the making out, he can get on board with that. he likes Steve’s soft lips and roaming hands, he likes the feel of Steve’s body against his, likes how when Steve kisses him, he actually feels cherished, he feels cared for and loved, but he also feels like Steve wants him, needs him, that he’s Steve’s air, and god, Steve is his.

Bucky knows, sheesh he knows that Steve is traditional in the good senses of the word. He wants to meet Bucky’s mother before they, do anything. And while they shouldn’t please Bucky, because he’s not property for Christ sake, he knows what Steve’s intentions actually are, knows why he wants to do it, and therefore he finds it sweet not infuriating. Steve wants to know Bucky, know know him, wants to date him, wants to be in control of his urges, wants to not knot Bucky till, well he isn’t entirely sure what Steve is waiting for in honesty, but he is waiting for certainty he knows that. He wants to be sure that Bucky wants him, actually wants him, not just in heat, not simply wants the idea of Steve, but the man himself. And Bucky understands that Steve is traditional he gets that, he does, but god, the waiting is sort of killing him, more than a little bit to be honest.

Especially since Steve should _know_ that Bucky wants him, that he doesn’t just want him cause of the heat. He thought that those few days did Steve some good, but maybe not, maybe he needs something else, something more convincing. And while Bucky is trying his darndest to figure out how to get the message that he _wants him_ through Steve’s thick skull, he hasn’t thought up anything yet.

…

Bucky forgoes an actual greeting, and instead beams at Steve, beanie held triumphantly in one hand as he nods hello to the others and gives a wave over heads to Nat, “You forgot your beanie punk.”

Steve doesn’t even look up from the page he’s reading, his pen tucked behind his ear as replies, “I didn’t forget it, you kidnapped it, jerk.”

“I was keeping it safe for you.” Bucky says sweetly, as he places the beanie of Steve’s head and presses his lips against his for a moment before pulling back. “I have a, a lecture, I gotta go but you, me and pizza tonight?”

Steve nods and kisses Bucky again, nothing more than a touch of lips before he’s reluctantly pulling back. He doesn’t want to, but he knows he has to, before his scent starts flaring and he has no desire to let Bucky go anywhere. Bucky smiles eyes bright and a slight blush in his cheeks as he stares at Steve. Steve wants to kiss him again, but he knows Bucky has to go, and Bucky is leaning towards Steve before waving a cute awkward goodbye and turning on his heel, and sprinting off, away from Red Room and towards campus.

Steve’s eyes trail after him until he’s out of sight, and has totally forgotten about Darcy until she sighs, “You guys are disgustingly adorable.”

Tony snorts and drops into the seat next to Darcy, “Sure, let’s go with that.” His hand moves to grab Steve’s beanie, but Steve sees that coming and ducks out of the way, grinning at him as Tony tries again and misses.

“Don’t hate on the beanie.” Steve says as Tony fails to grab it off Steve’s head a fourth time. Tony rolls his eyes and doesn’t even comment on the fact that Steve still has that ridiculous smile curling his lips, the smile that only Bucky can seem to put there, the smile that makes Tony miss Pepper, a lot.

“Where’s _my_ Bucky?” Darcy sighs as she takes another sip of her coffee and pulls out her almost finished, half edited essay that she still has a week to complete.

Steve’s lips part to give her a reply, but Tony beats him to it, “Well I don’t know for sure, but he might be at party tomorrow night.”

Steve and Darcy exchange a look, yeah, this is the first that they’ve both heard about this. She arches her eyebrow, asking Steve without words ‘do you wanna take this or should I?’ Steve shrugs, and Darcy asks, “That you’ve waited until now to invite us to.”

Tony stares at the calculations on his notebook in front of him that he’s been staring at for the past twenty minutes with no enlightenment. “It’s a last minute thing.”

“How last minute?” Steve asks not even glancing up from the paragraph he’s highlighting. He has a feeling he already knows the answer, but he asks anyway.

Tony shrugs, “I decided a few hours ago.”

“Usual time?” Darcy asks, Tony nods, distracted now. “I’m keen, and I’m sure Jane and Thor will be too. This invite only or…”

Tony hums, not quiet agreeing, but not disagreeing. He’s smiling down at his pad now, his pencil moving across it and his slowly rises from his seat and gives them a nod goodbye before he’s heading towards the door, pencil still moving, eyes glued to his page as he walks into two people without really noticing.

“You keen?” Darcy asks as she takes another sip of her coffee, wondering why she didn’t ask for them to give her a double shot, the Red Room does one helluva caffeine kick when requested. The blonde flips the page over, highlighter at the ready to assault another page full of text as he shrugs. “You’re gonna run it by Buck aren’t ya?” Darcy asks, not expecting an answer to a question she already knows the answer to.

Silent for a few seconds, Darcy puts a red line through a sentence as she mutters, “Why aren’t there more alphas like you Steven.”

“Trust me Darce the world has trouble handling just one of him, you wouldn’t want anymore.” Sam says, replying to her muttering that sought no answer. Darcy smiles at that, the smile turning into a grin as Sam pushes a fresh cup of coffee towards her before dropping into the seat next to Steve. “Courtesy of Nat.” Sam nods towards Darcy’s coffee, and she leans over, her view blocked by Steve, and blows a kiss over to Nat who smiles at her from behind the counter.

Steve elbows Sam in the side, his eyes skimming over the words as smiles at the cup of coffee he knows is sitting in front of him now. For both the coffee and the comment, Steve says, “Thanks Sammy.”  As he tries to focus on the paragraph he’s reading through and not on _his_ omega and Tony’s party tomorrow night.

…

In the end Bucky couldn’t make it to Tony’s party, had an essay to finish and had an early class. So Steve went without him, went and mingled and babysat Sam cause he handed two papers in today and was drinking like there was no tomorrow. It’s almost 3am by the time Steve gets back to Shield, for a moment he lingers in the hallway, wondering which room to go to. He wants to collapse onto his bed and sleep for 10 hours, but he promised he’d swing by Bucky’s room before he went to bed, and he hasn’t seen him for two days, nothing more than a rushed greeting as Bucky ran past him on the stairs yesterday morning when Steve was heading back to his dorm after his run.

Fuck, Steve’s missed Bucky. He loves the feel of his body against his, loves his soft breathe against his neck, loves the way he shifts towards him even in his sleep, and how when Steve’s arm tugs Bucky impossibly close Bucky lets out a happy sigh and snuggles up and he wraps his calming scent around Steve without even knowing it.

Sighing, Steve glances at Bucky’s door before unlocking his own. He’ll go to Bucky’s straight after, he knows that, but he needs to splash water on his face first, needs to brush his teeth and maybe have a quick shower.

He makes it a few steps into his dorm before he can smell Bucky.

Bucky in his bed, Bucky in his dorm but that isn’t what he smells.

What he smells is fear.

He smells his omega, well not properly, not yet. His omega is shifting in bed, a movement he barely catches in the darkness of the room, but he can smell his distress, he can make out those small hurt sounds and bitten back pleas.

“Buck.” The word slips out between his lips, he doesn’t really notice it, he just shifts towards the bed, he forgoes washing his face and gets both hands on his omega, shaking him softly, shaking him awake.

“Bucky, baby please, wake up, I’m here, it’s me, you’re safe, you’re safe, I’ve got you.” Steve’s not really sure if it’s his words or his firm shaking or his protective scent that he knows he is pumping out, no doubt pissing off the people down the hall if the l/oud groan and annoyed sigh two doors down is anything to go by, wakes Bucky up, but he doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care before those breathy harsh sounds that sound so awful coming out of those soft pink lips, have stopped. He doesn’t care because Bucky isn’t trapped in his head anymore, he doesn’t care because while Bucky’s still afraid, his face and scent tell him that much, he’s nowhere near as afraid as he was when Steve walked in.

And knowing that just his presence is enough to calm Bucky down?

If he wasn’t so worried about _his_ omega then that would go straight to his head or perhaps further south.

“Steve?” Blue eyes so soft, so wide with fear, so uncertain. Long fingers curl around Steve’s biceps, holding on to him, feeling him, grounding him, as he grips onto something tangible, tangible in the way his dream no doubt felt.

“Yeah baby it’s me, I’m right here.” Steve’s voice is soft, and he presses a kiss to Bucky’s forehead.

He leans back, shifting away to get Bucky a glass of water, something, but Bucky whines softly, his grip on Steve tightening.

“Shh baby I’m not going anywhere.” Steve reassures him, stepping back to his side, kicking his shoes off without taking his hands off Bucky. He should probably have a shower, should brush his teeth, but he doesn’t think of that now. Instead he kisses Bucky’s nose and pulls back, just a little, just enough to strip of his beer stained shirt, and his jeans.

Left in his briefs, he notices how Bucky still hasn’t taken his eyes off Steve. That he is watching him as he worries his bottom lip, and that his eyes are still unable to focus. He looks exhausted, and Steve wonders if he even managed to sleep last night. He wants to ask, wants to make sense of this, but instead he clambers into bed beside Bucky and pulls his omega onto his chest. Bucky presses his cheek against Steve’s chest and lets Steve hold him close, lets his palm rest on Steve’s hip as fingertips bite into the skin, checking that Steve is here, that he really is real.

“You know you can tell me anything.” Steve says against Bucky’s hair before pressing a kiss against his forehead and rubbing his hand against Bucky’s back as he tries to soothe his omega.

Bucky shakes his head and whispers against his chest, “I know.”

Steve wonders how he hasn’t seen this before, wondering how he doesn’t know, he should know this, he should be here when Bucky is getting nightmares, he should have known. “Since when do you get nightmares, baby?”

Bucky doesn’t look up at him, seems to bury his face into Steve, breathing him in before he admits, “Since always.”

“But you’ve never had then- oh my god Bucky, do you even sleep here when you’re with me or do you just lie awake and-” Steve’s eyes widen as he stares down at his omega, as he tries to keep his voice even and fails in keeping his scent under control.

Bucky shifts, doesn’t actually get up, can’t with Steve’s grip, doesn’t want to anyway, but he looks up at Steve, takes his face in hand, his fingertips digging into is jaw for a moment to get his attention before he is cutting him off, “No Stevie I do, I don’t get nightmares when you’re here.”

“Really?” Steve almost pleads, his protective scent wrapping around Bucky as Steve tightens his grip on him, adorably wanting to protect him from the nightmares he’s already woken up from time and time before.

Bucky is trying very hard to focus, not an easy task when he can practically taste freshly chopped wood and vanilla, and has to shake his head before he can find the word to respond, “Really.”

“But what happens when I’m not.” Steve asks, just managing to cut himself short. ‘What happens when I make you sleep alone.’ He wants to add.  This is him not Bucky, he’s the one that fights against instincts so that he doesn’t ravage him like he so wants to, like he so needs to. He makes sure there is space between them, that they aren’t each other’s, not completely, not yet.

Why?

Because he isn’t sure that he is what Bucky wants.

Not really.

 He knows that he wants Bucky, more than just instincts, he needs him. He doesn’t know how to tell him, how to put into words that even himself will understand, he just needs Bucky, always. But he doesn’t know if Bucky is the same, doesn’t know if this is just Bucky’s first relationship, that he’s just getting carried away in the newness of it, if his instincts are getting in the way and he just wants Steve now, not forever. He should’ve stayed away for longer, but he couldn’t, and now, now he still isn’t sure.

Steve knows when he knots him, he’ll mark Bucky, he knows that he won’t be able to stop himself and he knows that in that moment Bucky won’t want him to stop, that he’ll mark him right back, but will Bucky still want that a few days, a few weeks later? Steve’s mark can fade over time, but Bucky’s won’t, he won’t ever be able to be bonded with anyone else. That thought alone is distracting Steve right now, knowing that once Bucky’s _his_ , he’ll be his forever, and even though his bond could fade, he knows that he’ll be Bucky’s forever.

But he doesn’t know if Bucky wants forever.

The space helped, it did help but Steve’s still not sure.

Doesn’t know if his instincts are telling him what he wants, that maybe Bucky doesn’t want Steve, not really, and Steve can’t-

“Stevie?” Bucky whispers against skin.

“Yeah Buck.”

Bucky hesitates, only for a moment, before he is murmuring with soft words that were almost held back, words that he’s no doubt kept in far longer than either of them would have wanted, “I sleep better when you’re here.”

‘You don’t sleep when I’m not’ he wants to answer, but he doesn’t. That won’t help. Bucky can’t sleep without nightmares when he’s not here, and that gives him an odd sense of pride, that he is able to comfort him, that just be being here it calms Bucky. Instead of promising that he won’t Bucky spend another night alone if he can help it, he just tightens his grip on Bucky, presses a kiss to the top of his head and murmurs,  “Me too baby.”

…

Five minutes later, Steve finally figures something out, he makes a soft, “Oh” sound that he was sure wasn’t really that loud, but Bucky tilts his face a little and gives him an inquiring look in the dark, so obviously it was loud enough.

Bucky waits for a few seconds before poking Steve, who pulls his tongue out at Bucky before speaking. “That’s why Nat was in your bed.”

“When?” Bucky’s exhausted and barely awake, but he tries to follow along with Steve’s realisation all the same.  Besides, he feels safe and comfortable in Steve’s arms, he wants to be able to soothe Steve’s mind if he can.

“When I-”

Bucky shuffles a little, and mumbles against Steve’s chest, “Oh, yeah.”

He couldn’t tell him why Nat was in his bed before, not without admitting to the nightmares, not without getting Steve worried about him and his head that doesn’t let him rest, that never bloody shuts up, no matter how much he wants it too.

“You couldn’t sleep alone, so she was making sure you could.” Bucky nods sleepily against Steve’s chest, it wasn’t’ a question, not really, but Bucky nods anyway. He knows that Steve won’t ask for it, but he is looking for confirmation all the same.

“That’s why you smelled like her some mornings.” Bucky hesitates before he nods. That’s not the only reason, but it is the main one. Steve doesn’t notice his hesitation though. He is too busy smiling, pulling Bucky closer to him as he presses a kiss to his forehead.

Steve makes Bucky feel safe just by being Steve, just by being there, not just as the solid weight beneath him and wrapped around him, not just his scent that is calming Bucky, but Steve, pure and simple, so Bucky has no problem falling asleep less than a minute later, feeling safe and protected from anything his mind can throw at him tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They will be having a little chat about the space soon, I am not brushing that issue off, we are coming back to that later don't you worry.   
> Thought I'd give ya some cuteness though, the calm before the storm perhaps? 
> 
> Anyways, writing a/b/o soothes the soul. Really shit day so some love would be much appreciated.


	11. Twisted Tongues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No a/b/o notes this time, but obviously the earlier a/b/o universe notes still apply.

Bucky doesn’t want to sleep alone, really doesn’t want to sleep alone, not after those four days with Steve on the other side of the door the entire time, and not now that Steve knows he gets nightmares. Steve won’t let him now anyway, not with Bucky’s nightmares, not when he already feels bad enough that he let _his_ omega sleep alone when he was scared. Steve may be fighting against his instincts, but that doesn’t mean he’ll let Bucky sleep alone when he needs Steve. Bucky comes first, _his_ omega to care for, _his_ to protect, so he will.

But that doesn’t make things easy for Steve, not at all. In fact in makes it harder. Sure they sleep over at Bucky’s, since he says that Steve’s lingering scent after he’s gone helps him relax and in a weird way helps to clear his head. So that means Steve’s room doesn’t smell like Bucky, which means he can actually get work done in there, but that doesn’t mean that Steve doesn’t need to actively stop himself form thinking about Bucky.

Bucky’s whole room is a mix of their scents now, and it makes it extremely hard for Steve to focus. Especially when Bucky’s lips are on his, especially when Bucky’s hands are roaming his skin, his fingertips biting into his hips as he draws _his_ alpha closer… Steve does not have an easy time controlling his urges. He has to put up a fight against pretty much everything in him, to not pin Bucky underneath him and knot him right there and then. Has to fight himself to not push Bucky up against the wall, wrap _his_ omega’slong legs around his waist before he’s pounding into him, knotting him before his teeth are sinking into Bucky’s neck, claiming Bucky as _his_ …

Steve slams his hand against the door and takes a deep shuddering breath. He cannot keep doing this. He cannot keep getting stuck in his head when he’s walking places, not when his head is back in Bucky’s room imagining what he could do to _his_ omega.

No hand comes towards him, there is no one around but he feels the need to let out a low growl anyway. He wants Bucky to be his... _his_ omega, marked and claimed.

God, he _needs_ Bucky.

Steve rests his forehead against the metal, trying to cool himself down. But it doesn’t really help.

He _needs_ to have Bucky’s body against his, _needs_ to be able to dig his fingers into his skin, _needs_ to able to _taste him,_ feel his lips against his, _needs to mark_...

Steve tries to focus, focus on the background noises, focus on the way the leaves shift in the breeze. But he can’t. He can’t focus on anything because his mind is on Bucky, it is always on Bucky.

God he just _needs_ him.

He needs him more than he can say, and he doesn’t want to say it, not yet. But he knows he can’t mate Bucky, he can’t do that yet. Not now, not when… he just can’t.

Groaning again, Steve wipes his hand down his face and tries to gain some control of his scent before he starts off at a run to his lecture which he is going to be late for.

…

They need to have a conversation, this conversation. And Bucky knows that Steve won’t enter them into it, not for a while at least. But he knows that Steve wants to have this conversation, even if he isn’t entirely aware of it.

But Bucky doesn’t know how to enter into a conversation like this. He’s never been good with relationships, not like this, not with the words and the feelings and the talking. He trusts Steve, god he trusts him more than he could ever imagine trusting anyone, ever. He doesn’t really even know why he trusts him so much, just that he does, and he knows that he trusts Steve with his life. All of it. Forever.

Forever… he knows Steve isn’t sure of what Bucky thinks that means. But Bucky knows he loves Steve, and he knows that Steve loves him. He also knows that Steve isn’t sure that Bucky’s sure, and he needs to make Steve know that he is serious. Because he is.

Bucky doesn’t take any of this lightly. He doesn’t fall in love at the drop of a hat, he’s not all together an emotional person, so getting to this stage was not something he expected anytime soon. He never thought he would fall in love so quickly, and reaching the stage where he could admit that he was in love with Steve took a while, it took a lot. And Steve dismissing that hurts. He knows it shouldn’t, but this is a big deal for him, so Steve’s dismissal of it, is growing increasingly frustrating.

Bucky needs to let Steve know, needs to make _his_ alpha listen. Which means he needs to enter into this conversation, he needs to make sure _his_ alpha understands.

“Steve?” Bucky asks over lunch, and Steve hums distractedly, barely glancing up from his essay that is covered in red pen.

“Coffee?” Bucky finds himself asking. He can’t do it now. He cannot have this conversation over lunch. It doesn’t feel right. Steve nods and Bucky rises from his chair, wondering if there will ever be a right time to bring this up. To tell Steve to get his head out of his ass, and accept that Bucky knows what he feels, that Bucky knows he wants Steve. Not just now, not just a fleeting moment of lust, but something more.

He can’t explain it. Doesn’t really understand it, but he knows he needs Steve, he wants Steve. Steve is _his_ alpha, no one else’s. He can’t imagine having another alpha, just like he can’t imagine if water was bright orange and the sky on a clear day was red. It just, it wouldn’t feel right.

He is _Steve’s_ omega.  A smile touches his face as he thinks that. All those years growing up he hated it when the older omegas talked about belonging, he wasn’t anyone’s property, Bucky was not anyone’s, he was his own.

He never imagined a world where he wasn’t his anymore, he was someone else’s.

But he isn’t, not really. Steve is his and he is Steve’s, they are each other’s. They belong to one another and themselves, and Bucky likes it better that way.

This conversation can wait, but it needs to be had. Bucky knows it needs to be had and that he needs to be the one who enters into it.

…

Bucky is halfway through doing the buttons up on a new dress shirt that Clint had demanded that he needed to buy after seeing it on the rack when he is interrupted by his phone. He considers ignoring it when it goes off again.

He has two missed calls and six messages from Steve, he grins as he scrolls through them,

_Nat said not black liquorice right??_

_Or was it lots of black liquorice?_

_She will skin me alive if I get this wrong._

_If you don’t reply I won’t buy that chocolate you like._

_I’m not kidding. Don’t test me Buck._

Grinning down at his phone he quickly types out a reply.

_You wouldn’t dare._

_Ps. No black liquorice love! she hates it, the taste, the smell – all of it._

Reply sent he goes to slide his phone into the back pocket of his jeans when he catches the look that Clint and Nat exchange. About to ask, he swallows his question when Nat’s eyes land on him and she grins, “Oh my god look at you!”

“What?” Bucky glances down at his shirt, wondering if it looks terrible, he hasn’t glanced in the mirror yet.

Clint’s groan alerts him that it’s not the shirt, and as Nat chuckles he raises his eyebrow questioningly at them. Clint laughs to himself as he wanders back into the store leaving the two of them alone in the changing rooms. Nat just smiles, “You are totally besotted.”

“Am not!” Bucky says although as his phone vibrates in his hand and he glances down and sees Steve’s name, he smiles stupidly.

“Am so.” Nat grins, triumphant. No way to argue this, Bucky just pushes his phone into his back pocket and finishes doing up the buttons. Nat fixes his collar like she always does, and then asks, “What movie did lover boy pick for tonight?”

“When are you going to stop calling him that?” Bucky asks as he checks himself out in the mirror, wondering if a black shirt with a black suit is really the way to go. He does admit he looks kind of good in it though, especially with the bit of stubble he has going on (something that Steve seems to love a little more than he’d anticipated).

Nat smiles as Bucky continues to check himself out, “When a better nickname presents itself or it ceases to annoy you and entertain me. Plus Stev-o doesn’t mind I’m sure.”

“Did you jus-“ Bucky starts when he sees a flash of movement and then Nat is heading back into the store, without another word.

He spends two minutes in front of the mirror, trying to ascertain whether this shirt would look good with his suit, or if it is a total waste of time, before groaning.

“Lover boy says yes.” Nat says, as she pokes her head around the corner. “He thinks you look fine.” She drags the ‘i’ and waggles her eyebrows and behind her Clint makes a face at Bucky which he chooses to ignore.

It takes his brain a moment to catch up to what Nat said, and then he is staring at her, not even a little surprised. “Did you just, did- you snapchatted him?”

Nat smirks in response, glances down at her phone and says nothing. Clint laughs and answers, “Him and others. You looked cute though don’t worry.”

Supressing a grin, Bucky pulls a face and does his best to sound like he means what he says, “I’m uninviting you to movie night!”

Bucky goes to slam the changing room door behind him, but it just swings forward and then back and hits him. Ignoring Clint starting to die of laughter, Bucky can’t ignore Nat’s voice as she chuckles, “You can’t do that, Darcy loves me and so does Sam, I’m a keeper.”

…

The next few days pass uneventfully. Bucky has brought up the conversation with Natalia twice now, but not once with Steve. Part of him wants to ask Sam how he thinks he should phrase it to get Steve to realise that he means what he says with utter surety. But Sam is Steve’s best friend and he doesn’t want to get him involved. Despite himself, he almost does bring it up to Sam when Clint and Steve are inside getting the coffees after their regular morning run, in which Steve and Bucky slaughtered Clint and Sam as usual, and were little shits about it as usual. But then Sam sees Darcy across the road, waves at her and the moment vanishes.

Bucky isn’t sure how to broach the conversation, and when he is studying, his whole room still smelling like Steve, Bucky forgets about the conversation, forgets what he needs to tell him and instead just breathes _his_ alphas scent it, letting his brain fill with the smell of rain and wood and vanilla, and he is pretty sure in those moments that he doesn’t need to have the conversation.

It’s even worse when Steve is there with him. Even if they are just sitting on his dorm room floor, eating pizza and talking about their days, Bucky forgets about the conversation. He forgets when Steve’s lips are on his skin, forgets when Steve is kissing him, when Steve is beneath the palm of his hand. When Steve is curled around him, Bucky breathes him in, and often remembers the conversation just as he lingers in the waking world for just another moment before sleep takes him. And when he wakes up with Steve presses kisses down his back, or with the alarm clock beeping or with the sun creeping through the window, all thoughts of the conversation are out of his mind.

…

It takes another few days before Bucky feels its time. And despite every cell in his body that really wants to stay exactly where he is and leave the conversation for later, he doesn’t. Instead he does what he doesn’t want to do in that moment because for once he is mentally prepared for this.

Bucky has to pull his lips from Steve’s, and place his hand over his mouth and nose breathing in a few shallow breathes before he is rolling out from under Steve and pushing his window open.

Cheeks flushed and pupils dilated, Steve watches him, barely fighting the urge to take Bucky’s hand and pulling him back to bed to kiss him some more. Although now he sees Bucky standing up, those long legs stretching as he breathes in the fresh air, Steve wants to push his omega up against the wall and kiss him senseless. He wants to have Bucky wrap his legs around his waist and moan against him as Steve sucks at the skin just below Bucky’s scent glands.

But before he can shift from the bed, Bucky’s voice is cutting through his thoughts, “Steve.”

The cool air is floating through the air and Bucky is still breathing it in, trying to clear his head. He didn’t want to break away from Steve, but he knew he had to start this conversation now, knew it was the best time. Steve watches him for another moment, before he’s taking a deep breathe in, the cool nights air mixing with their scents. “Yeah Buck.”

Bucky waits, pulls the window towards him, but leaves it open just a crack. He observes the world outside, gaze lingering on a street light before he is turning back to Steve. “I love you.”

There is sincerity in his tone that is accompanied by something Steve cannot quite place. Bucky’s expression offers nothing, so Steve starts, “I-”

Bucky just shakes his head. This isn’t what he wants to hear, not now. This isn’t about love confessions. “I know you do Stevie, I just, I need you to know I mean that.”

Silent for a beat, Steve watches Bucky, looking for a clue, for something hidden in those blue eyes and that shadow of a smile. There is nothing though, and Bucky seems to have stopped, for now at least, so Steve begins, “I know-”

Bucky waits a breath before interrupting, his hands moving with his mouth as he paces in front of Steve, “It wasn’t the heat Steve, it wasn’t. I’m not inexperienced and wide eyed and naïve, I love you and I want, and I think you want it to, I think you do, most days I’m sure of it, but sometimes I just-”

“Buck, we’ve been through this already I know, I-” Steve starts, he needs Bucky to understand. It’s not about what he thinks Bucky does or doesn’t know. It’s the fact it is forever. Totally and completely irreversible, once they bond, for Bucky there is no going back.

Bucky will always be his. And god, that thought is not one Steve needs in his head right now, because he can barely think straight with the want of that. But Steve needs Bucky to see that he is being careful _for him_. Because Steve can mate again, not that he will, not that he wants to, but Bucky can’t. And he’s just afraid that caught up in the hormones, in all of this, Bucky will regret his decision. And Steve doesn’t’ want to ever be something that Bucky regrets. Not ever.

He never wants to stand in the way of Bucky’s happiness. He doesn’t want that.

Bucky observes _his_ alpha, lets him ponder in his thoughts for a moment before he is kneeling in front of him palms resting on Steve’s checks as he says, each word weighted and stressed, “I want you.”

“You already have me.” Steve breathes in reply, lost in the depths of Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky waits a breath, presses a kiss to his beautiful alphas nose before he is tilting Steve’s face down a little. Staring into Steve’s eyes, Bucky doesn’t want to whisper, doesn’t want to hush this, so instead, his voice wrapped in sincerity and heavy with desire, he says, “I want you to bond me.”

Steve needs to fill his lungs with air and look away from Bucky for a few seconds before he can find words that act on thoughts rather than base desires. “Bucky-”

“Make me yours.” Bucky’s voice is low as he leans into _his_ alpha, palms still cupping Steve’s face, his lips only a breath from his.

“Bu-” Steve starts, but there isn’t any strength behind it. Bucky has him exactly where he wants him, and he knows it, Steve just doesn’t yet.

Bucky ignores him, and insists, “Yours.” He tilts his chin up as the word floats between them, hovering in Bucky’s silent dorm room, before the moment breaks and the blue of Steve’s iris is just an outline to the black.

“Mine.” Steve breathes fingers ghosting over Bucky’s neck, trailing past his scent glands, the pad of his thumbing pressing against where Steve has imagined biting into Bucky time and time again. Bucky is on the bed before he even registers Steve pulling him up off the floor and lying him beneath him.

Bucky isn’t able to formulate any words to respond, not when Steve leans down and presses his mouth to that spot, and sucks, and all Bucky can do is moan, head hitting the pillow as he grabs at Steve, fingertips digging into his hips as Steve continues to suck against his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a storm coming Mr Wayne... but not to worry, this one is only a little hiccup... also the Christmas time chapter is coming up soon... so if there is anything you want to see in that, let me know and I may put it in :)  
> Had intended to get this chapter up much sooner, but mock exams and one particularly harsh comment about my writing got in the way.  
> As usual some love would be much appreciated x


	12. Kings & Queens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pizza, phone calls and plans...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No a/b/o notes this time, but obviously the earlier a/b/o universe notes still apply.  
> (Apologies for the delay)

He’s happy.

Actually happy.

He didn’t notice it, not really. It is a gradual change, not one that happens over night, it just happens slowly, and he doesn’t even notice that he smiles more, that he feels lighter. Because it doesn’t seem to be a big deal that he has more energy during the day, or that he spends less time lying awake at bed at night trying to get to sleep. He is happy, and it is all because of Steve.

He didn’t even notice that he wasn’t happy. But really, he wasn’t unhappy, he was just… well he was not what he is now. He loves Nat and Clint, they are best friends, he loves them so much and they make him happy. But Steve is different. Steve is a different form of love obviously, but Steve also makes him a different kind of happy. Without him, he still would be happy, but with him, it’s totally different. It’s a completely different happy, not a fleeting alcohol induced feeling, but a permanent feeling that doesn’t seem to dampen.

Steve makes him happy, makes him smile more and laugh more, makes him feel lighter, makes him feel that anything is possible. Not in the dumb ‘I can fly way’, but in the way that he may not be entirely sure what his life will look in 10 years but in the way it doesn’t really matter. Because he will have Steve, and Steve will have him, and while he doesn’t know, they can, not know together. Because he doesn’t care where he is in ten years as long as he has Steve. And not in the ‘I will give up my life for you’, sort of way, but in the way that he knows that Steve makes him happy, Steve is his home. He loves what he studies, and knows that he will pursue that, but he can pursue it anywhere in the world. As long as he has Steve, he knows he will be happy. Maybe not all the time, not always, but most of the time, enough of the time.

Steve is enough for him, and he hopes he’s enough for him too.

Steve is _his_ alpha, his mate, well not officially, not yet. But soon.

Bucky loves him. Loves him in a way that he didn’t think was possible, not this fast, not this deep. He didn’t expect that simply the scent of vanilla and rain would make him smile, make him feel safe. But it does. He didn’t expect that he couldn’t not smile when he saw Steve. He didn’t expect so many things, and god he is glad he didn’t hide in his room like he usually does in his heat. He is glad that Nat forgot to put the scent blockers on the bottom of his door, that Steve failed to notice Bucky was in heat until it was too late for him to get out of there.

Bucky is thankful for a lot of things, but most of all, he is thankful for Steve.

He doesn’t think that Steve gets it. He knows that Steve is worried, worried that Bucky doesn’t know what he wants, worried that he doesn’t actually know what he wants, not in the long term at least, because for him, this is forever. For Steve, he can mark again. Sure it won’t be as potent as the first, but he will hardly even notice. Bucky can only bond once, he knows that. He knows that he doesn’t get another chance at this.

He loves Steve, loves that he worries. Loves that he cares about him, he loves him.

But this is his choice. This is their choice. And he wishes that Steve was more aware of this. He wishes that Steve was able to accept it without convincing, without time.

He loves him, and he knows Steve loves him too.

He feels what he has only ever read in books, he feels things that he never knew were actually real feelings, not just imaginings and wishes of those living lonely lives wishing for more, and knowing that they will probably never get what they imagine, but will settle for less.

Steve is his choice.

And it’s about bloody time that he marks him, because Bucky is losing his fucking mind.

**…**

Bucky skips the greeting and goes straight to the point of the call, “You want Japanese or Indian tonight?”

Steve chuckles and Bucky can practically hear the fond smile that curls his lips as he replies, “Didn’t you mention needing Thai food in your life just this morning?”

“Oh yes!” The omega grins, sliding off the kitchen bench in search for the menu for the Thai place they always go to. He’s silent for a few moments as he looks it over, unsure what to get. “What do you want?”

There’s a sigh on the other end, reality crashing into the newly proposed idea, “Can’t tonight, have to pull an all-nighter with Sam.”

Bucky tries not to whine at that, ‘all-nighter’. He hates sleeping alone, hates it most nights, but now he knows what it feels like to sleep comfortably, to feel safe, to have Steve’s arm wrapped around him, a firm weight, an anchor he hates sleeping by himself. And Steve had promised he wouldn’t make him again. But instead of saying any of that he settles on, “Oh okay, when will you be back?”

Steve hesitates, silent for a few moments as he considers, “Dinner tomorrow? Pizza and season 5 of friends to make it up to you?”

Bucky grins at that, glances over to where the kettle is being boiled as he pictures snuggling up on his bed, with Steve and friends, and he kind of wishes it was tomorrow already.

“Sounds like a date.” Bucky hesitates before he asks,” you there now?”

There’s a small pause before Steve answers, his attention elsewhere before he is saying, “Yeah, I gotta go help Sam with these cue cards he’s messing up the system, see you tomorrow?”

Bucky nods before realising that Steve can’t actually hear him. “Have fun.”

“Love ya.” Steve murmurs into the phone, says it without fully realising it, but meaning it just as much as he always does. He does it like a reflex now, so easy and instinctual, but that doesn’t make it any less potent. He loves Bucky Barnes, and he doesn’t say that flippantly, he says it with intent, even without really realising he’s doing it.

Bucky smiles, can’t help it, and says it back without hesitation, “Love ya too.”

“You guys are disgusting.” Sam says as he places Bucky’s cup of tea down on the coffee table and Tony hums in agreement from where he is just finishing hooking up his new sound system to the tv.

Bucky swallows the lump growing in his throat and croons, “But you looooove us.” He makes kissy noises at Tony as he heads to the bathroom, and narrowly avoids the pillow that Tony throws at him. “We’re having Thai by the way!” He calls out.

Pulling the bathroom door shut behind him, he leans against, focusing on breathing in and out for a few seconds as he tries to not think of awful farfetched scenarios of where the hell Steve is right now, and why he’s lying.

Bucky’s in Tony’s apartment, with Sam and Tony, so Steve sure as hell isn’t with Sam right now. And while Bucky’s not worried, not really, he can’t help the twist in his gut, because he knows exactly what Steve is probably up to right now. Giving them more bloody space, because he isn’t sure that Bucky wants him, because he isn’t sure that Bucky needs him.

He had thought that after their conversation a few nights ago, he had made it perfectly clear what he had wanted, and he had thought they were back on the same page. The hunger in Steve’s eyes, the indents in Bucky’s skin, and the hickey that was only now beginning to fade; he had thought it all meant that Steve had understood. That Steve knew he was ready, ready to bond.

Splashing water on his face, Bucky’s fingers grip the porcelain sink and he stares at his reflection for a few moments before rolling his eyes, someday the nobility of Steve Rogers, just may be the death of him.

**…**

At 3am Bucky calls Steve again, voice broken as he whispers into the phone, “You said you wouldn’t make me sleep alone.”

He doesn’t fall back asleep that night. Can’t. Won’t. Instead he works on his essay and consumes coffee like air. In another town, Steve lies awake. He hasn’t slept at all, not since leaving Bucky, not since he knows what leaving Bucky at night will mean, not when he plays Bucky’s broken message over and over, tears streaming down his face as Bucky’s voice breaks over and over, ‘alone’ quivering before Bucky hangs up after a bitten back whine.

Steve doesn’t want to do this, doesn’t want to not be there. But he has to.

He has to do this. And it is only for one night. And to be fair he hadn’t planned this, not at all, he decided this on a whim, and he needs to do it.

Bucky will understand. He’s sure he will.

After he yells a little.

Steve smooshes his face into the pillow and groans.

This would be so much easier if he hadn’t thought of it at the last minute. The idea he’s had for a while, but the actuality, that is reasonably new. Honestly he’s been wanting to do this for weeks, and he wants to do it now. Not because he’ll lose his nerve, but because he wants to do this right, or at least how he believes right to be. And there’s only so much longer he can wait, and he wants to do this right, so he needs to do this now.

**…**

Bucky groans, throwing his arm up over his eyes he hides himself from the assault of the sun as it peaks through the windows. He rolls over, trying to escape the persistent sun attempting to summon him to the day that he does not want to greet. He stills as he hits the solid weight beside him, stills as he breathes in the smell of wood and rain, the smell of Steve.

But Steve isn’t here.

Steve is god only knows where, seeking more bloody space.

Bucky shifts his arm an inch, and peaks out from under it, peaks out at Steve who is lying next to Bucky, his gaze on the window, obviously lost in thought.

Bucky wants to yell, yell at him for lying, for leaving without a warning, again. But instead he breathes in again and snuggles against Steve, using his chest as a pillow as he throws his leg over _his_ alpha, keeping him there.

Sure Bucky has to pee, and after a few seconds of breathing Steve in, his stomach grumbles as he recognises the smell of pizza wafting towards him from the coffee table that is no doubt still covered with notes.

Bucky doesn’t speak, he doesn’t want to, not yet, instead he ignores that it’s almost 6 o’clock and that he apparently slept through most of the day on his floor if the crink in his neck is anything to go by, and instead snuggles up to his alpha, and breathes him in.

Together they lay in silence, Steve running his fingers up and down Bucky’s back as he stares down at his omega, his Bucky, still lost in thought.

**…**

A silent hour and a toilet trip later, Bucky crawls back into bed with a pizza box in hand and a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he sees season 5 of friends resting on his laptop across the room, Steve was true to his word.

Bucky opens his mouth, goes to say thank you, thank you for coming back, thank you for bringing me pizza and television, thank you for scooping me off my floor and placing me in my bed, thank you for everything – but instead Steve stuffs a piece of pizza into Bucky’s open mouth and speaks instead, “You’re not property, I know that Bucky, I know that...”

“But,” starts Bucky over a mouthful of cold pizza, he doesn’t want to have an argument, but he has an idea that in no time at all this will become one.

“No but!”

“Uh huh,” Bucky tuts, still chewing his piece of pizza as he fixes Steve with a look; a look that without actual words Steve needs no help interpreting.

Steve seems to think how to phrase it for a few seconds, and then he decides there is no way to phrase this that won’t piss Bucky off, so he goes the easy way, that he knows will annoy him, “We needed space.”

Bucky sighs, he wishes that Steve would stop using that godforsaken word. He hates that word now. He also hates how his stupid alpha seems to be taking their decisions into his hands, something that he will not put up with, not like this at least. Groaning, he stares at his alpha for a silent moment, long enough for his alpha to have the decency to break the gaze and stare ashamedly at his shoes. “No we didn’t, didn’t you get enough space two weeks ago??”

“We needed more, we-” Steve starts, wringing his hands and continuing to avoid Bucky’s gaze.

Bucky groans, dropping his almost finished slice of pizza back in the box as he stands up and begins to pace, “I rea-”

“Buck.”

Bucky sighs, not ready to let this argument go, but ready to put it aside for now. He waves his hand, gesturing for Steve to continue.

“I visited your mother.”

Now that he was not expecting. He plays over those words, listens to them in his head for a moment, not making any sense of them, before he asks, “Wait, what?”

“To-” but Bucky’s brain is catching up. He stares at Steve for a moment, taking a step towards him as he holds up his hand to silence Steve. It must be the look in his eyes that shuts Steve up, or maybe Steve really didn’t want to continue anyway.

He drops down on the bed beside Steve and places his palms on his alphas cheeks before he says in disbelief, “You’re idea of giving space is going to visit _my_ mother without telling me, to ask if you can mate me?”

Steve blinks, then smiles that adorable smile, “Well, yes.”

Bucky shakes his head, not quite believe that this man is even real. “I love you Steve Rogers.”

Still anticipating at least some yelling, knowing that he does deserve some yelling, Steve is silent for a moment, unsure how to take this reply, before he jokes, “You sure?”  But it’s a joke, not really. He’s asking, actually properly asking, and he doesn’t want any more miscommunication, he doesn’t want this to be wrongly interpreted, he needs to know, so he does what he doesn’t often do, and he puts it into words, actual words as he pulls Bucky onto his lap, “You sure you want me Bucky Barnes? You sure I’m what you want? Cause once you have me, once I have you, I am never letting you go.”

Bucky chuckles, presses his lips to his alphas for a moment. His grin does what it always does to Steve, but the way it meets his eyes, the way they twinkle, the way the black starts to engulf the blue as Bucky stares at Steve, quickens his pulse. Bucky’s grin changes to a smirk as he quips, “I’m sure that you’re a fucking idiot.”

Hands find Bucky’s waist, hands firmly holding hips as Bucky’s knees rest on the bed on either side of Steve’s thighs. Steve’s hands rest on skin, beneath Bucky’s shirt, fingertips biting into his omegas skin, marking him without conscious thought, “I just want you to be-”

“Sure. I know Stevie I know, and I am sure. God I am sure. I’m not in heat, I’m not some young impressionable omega that is falling head over heels in love with you because you smell so good and cause you pay attention to me. I love you Steve Rogers, not just your scent, not just cause you are so fucking hot I need to gather myself sometimes, and not just cause you pay attention to me.”

Steve blushes, blushes that blush Bucky wants to follow with teeth and tongue, wants to shower with kisses, and trace with lips, wants to find how far down this blush goes on his alpha, wants to follow it. “Buc-”

“I’m not finished.” Steve’s a little taken back by Bucky’s tone, hard and serious, and he feels his own scent spike, not in defence of it, but in attraction to it. Bucky smirks, “Really?” Steve runs his hand through his hair before he gestures for Bucky to continue. “We’ll get back to that later.” The omega mutters before he cups Steve’s face.

“I’m not incompetent, I’m not naïve,” Steve moves to open his mouth but Bucky gives him a look so Steve says nothing, and Bucky continues, “I trust you, I know you, I love you. You aren’t a threat to my future, you’re part of it. You aren’t ruining my education, you aren’t distracting me from what I need to do, you aren’t anything that you are stupidly thinking.”

Steve opens his mouth again, but Bucky cuts him off again, “If the next sentence that comes out of your mouth starts with ‘but’ or ‘however’, or some shit trying to convince me I don’t know how I feel, I will sock you in the jaw, again.”

“I love you too Bucky.”

“So…” Bucky waggles his eyebrows suggestively, and Steve chuckles. He lets his hands roam Bucky’s back, before his palms find themselves on Bucky’s ass.

Steve presses a kiss to Bucky’s lips, then resting his forehead against his, breathes into the space between them, “Next heat.”

Bucky groans, pushes Steve back against the bed and falls with his alpha, his head hitting the middle of Steve’s chest as he groans again, “That’s two fucking weeks away!”

Steve the bastard, just chuckles, hands still on Bucky’s ass as he places a kiss on Bucky’s head. “It’ll be worth the wait.”

Bucky groans again, breathing Steve’s scent in as his alpha just laughs at him and pats his ass. Instead of calling his alpha an asshole, Bucky instead just burrows against him and mutters, “Sure, sure, unless I kill you first.”

**…**

He cannot wait two weeks, but he has to. His heat is in two weeks, and only 13 hours ago, Steve promised to mark him, to claim him, to make him his. And Bucky cannot get enough of his alpha’s scent, his alphas lips on his skin, his alphas fingertips biting into his hips, his alphas body against his. And his alpha cannot get enough of him either.

…

…

Bucky is smiling and excited when he drops down into the seat opposite Steve at the Red Room. It’s been two days now since they’ve decided to bond on Bucky’s next heat. He doesn’t even bother going over to Nat and ordering his coffee, he’s too excited to bother with his coffee right now. Steve looks up from where he’s sketching Bucky, and smiles, as usual the real thing is just so much better. Leaning across the table he kisses him quickly, and moves to pull away but Bucky’s fingers latch onto his shirt and he pulls him back. 

It takes Steve a cleared throat from Nat as she places Bucky’s unordered coffee down on their table to tear his lips away from Bucky and actually find out what Bucky is so excited about. It turns out he ran into Sam on the way, hence why he was ten minutes late. Sam’s uncle has a holiday house he isn’t using, and Sam’s parents are in Paris, doing ‘God knows what’ according to Sam, and none of them really have anywhere else to be going, and so Sam’s invited them down for the week before Christmas.

Continuing to ignore his coffee, Bucky continues to ramble, "There's a lake and three bedrooms and it's only a few hour’s drive, plus Sam's uncle said there's a boat we can use, so-"

"But-" Steve starts, trying to be reasonable, trying to….

"Look we'll be back before my heat hits I already checked." Bucky wants to go, he really wants to go, and he knows he won’t go without Steve, knows that Steve doesn’t control him, that while he is _his_ alpha (well not properly yet), he can still go without him if he wants, but he doesn’t want. He wants Steve to come with him, and he knows that Steve is worried, knows that Steve isn’t sure, but he is. 

Steve interrupts again, "But-"

"Please Stevie."

He can't say not to that. Not those soft blue eyes or that obscene bottom lip.

"Yes I'll come," Steve starts, the rest of his sentence swallowed by Bucky’s excited, "Yes!"

There’s another something, he knows there is, but that doesn’t stop he beaming, doesn’t stop him from kissing Steve again, tasting the caramel chocolate on his lips, before pulling back and hearing the three words he was waiting for, "On one condition."

He may have been expecting them but Bucky sighs all the same.

Condition or no condition, they’re going to Sam’s uncles house for pre-Christmas, and Bucky can have a real Christmas (even though it’ll be a few days early), can have a real Christmas with Steve, and Nat and Clint, so Bucky cups Steve’s cheeks and presses his lips to his, and barely supresses a moan when Steve licks his way into his mouth and pulls Bucky across the table and onto his lap.

“Boys.” Nat warns for the counter, and Bucky blushes, smiling sheepishly at Nat as he pulls away, Steve leans forward and presses another kiss to Bucky’s lips before he picks Bucky’s drink up off the table and holds the cup up to his lips.

Bucky lets out a short breath, his pupils dilating a little, as he parts his lips and drinks. Steve desperately tries to remember that they’re out in public, and that is really the only reason he manages to keep his left hand on Bucky’s upper thigh, as _his_ omega lets Steve control him just a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you ask, yes we will be seeing Steve meeting Bucky's mother, but that will be a flashback in a few chapters time.  
> And yes, we are getting into Christmas time which is what I have been waiting for, I have also been waiting for inspiration to strike - because with exams and just life, it has been hard to be able to get into writing again - so please comment, I love reading what you guys write
> 
> Bucky's heat is close ... Christmas is on the way ... my Christmas gift to you all this year is a bonding, sex and feels and all <3


	13. Not Your Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> holidays, heats and hikes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first, holy shit this was a major delay! Sorry about that guys, I want to promise that the chapter that follows this one will be up in a more timely manner, but I can't promise that, with uni starting up next week, and work still happening, the next chapter may not be up for another few weeks, but who knows, my engineering and law papers may push me to inspiration - one can only hope.
> 
> WARNINGS: the slippery slope to smut starts here. All consensual though, and while certain chemicals in ones brain at this time could blur the lines, the lines have been well established, and this alpha omega relationship has made decisions in clear minds, so any bonding or such like, is what they both want. 
> 
> Smut is in italics guys, so you can avoid it if you want, the smut continues next chapter, so if you wish to avoid it, stop when the italics start.

Bucky doesn’t even mind the condition, not at all. He knew that there would actually end up being more than one condition, but he also knew that he wouldn’t mind any of the conditions, and that some of these conditions would be his own.

Steve got his wish, got one of his conditions, and as Nat and Clint pile into the back seat of Steve’s car, neither of them comments as Bucky leans against the window and Steve puts his cd on. Steve gets to play _his_ music on the way up, and none of them are able to complain. Although, they get about three songs in before Bucky and Nat are belting out the lyrics, and it only takes a few more songs before Clint is joining in.

In all honesty the singing sort of defeats Steve’s point, but he doesn’t really mind. Not when he gets to hear Bucky sing and laugh and dance away in the seat beside him. Not when he is able to sing and dance a little himself. He can’t sing for shit, something that he is well aware of, but Bucky can. Bucky has a beautiful voice and even if he didn’t the smile on his face and the giddy excitement would be enough for Steve.

They may not all be having Christmas together in the house they are heading to, but Steve knows that this will be the Christmas that matters, that this pre-Christmas, with just them, will be perfect. Sure he had one condition for Bucky, but they both knew that in truth, there was pretty much no way that Steve would say no.

Not unless Bucky was in heat.

Not unless he was in rut.

**…**

The first night is filled with laughter and food and beer. They all wind up climbing into bed around 2am completely exhausted and wondering when the last time they laughed this much even was. It’s cold outside, but it hasn’t snowed for the last few days, but that doesn’t mean that Steve and Bucky don’t snuggle together under the blanket in a queen sized bed that doesn’t actually leave a whole heap of room for the both of them without their long limbs tangled together. Not that they mind. Not one bit.

**…**

Steve cannot stop touching him. Not that he tries, not really. He doesn’t want to stop touching his omega, and for the way Bucky leans into him as he wraps an arm around his waist, and slips his fingers under the waistband of his track pants. Steve can’t help it, he can’t stop touching him, hasn’t been able to since he woke up to find Bucky wrapped in most of their blankets as his sleeping face lay only inches away from Steve’s. Steve had woken him up with a kiss, and spent the next twenty minutes lazily making out and stealing back some of his blankets and some of Bucky’s warmth.

But Steve doesn’t want to stop touching, not when his omega smells so good, not with his smiling omega so close to him, so when Bucky is frying up some bacon and tomato and eggs as Clint makes pancakes, Steve snakes his arms around his middle and leans his chin against his shoulder.

The others don’t mention it, don’t find the touchy feely thing much a change in all honesty, Steve is a tactile person as is, not with the rest of them as such, not with omegas that aren’t his, but with his family and with Sam. And with Bucky Steve likes to touch him, likes to be in contact with his omega as much as he can. Its not possessive, its not protective – not really, he knows that he can trust his omega, knows that Bucky can take care of himself, but he likes to have his arm around his shoulders or wrapped around his waist, or his hand in his. And today isn’t much different, Bucky leans into touches and Steve rests his chin on his omegas shoulder as Bucky stares laughs with Clint and Nat. The couple don’t think anything of it when Steve tugs Bucky a little closer to him, both arms wrapped around his waist when Nat takes a step towards Bucky and she mutters a comment she doesn’t want Clint to hear.

The couple don’t think much of it when Steve slides his hand into Bucky’s and kisses him on the cheek before pulling Bucky onto his lap as they eat breakfast and chat at the counter. It doesn’t occur to anyone, that Steve is pulling Bucky away from Sam, another alpha, that just know how the young couple like to be close to each other. Steve doesn’t even know that he is doing it, and Bucky doesn’t notice how close Steve is keeping to him, because he can’t get enough of his alphas scent, and doesn’t want to be away from him either.

**…**

“Steeeeve.” Bucky doesn’t want to have to get changed again, he doesn’t want to keep Nat and the others waiting, except that he really doesn’t care about the others, screw the others actually.

Steve doesn’t answer, just continues to suck against Bucky’s collarbone as his fingertips dig into Bucky’s skin, leaving little indents that will soon fade, far too soon for either of their liking, but the mark Steve is making which will be hidden underneath Bucky’s shirt will last a few hours at least.

Bucky lasts another few seconds before he is saying, with a lot less commitment than the first time, “We have to go.”

Steve hums in agreement, and leans back to admire the mark he just left on his omega. Bucky glances down at it, and before he can say another word, Steve is kissing him and Bucky is pulling his body towards his as he cups the back of Steve’s head and tugs his alpha closer to him.

“BOYS!” Nat yells from the bottom of the staircase about two minutes later. They break apart, Bucky’s cheeks red as he bites the bottom of his lip and refuses to remove his hands from where they are cupping his alphas ass.

Steve sucks on Bucky’s bottom lip for a second, before he kisses him again, and groans as he pulls Bucky’s hips closer to his. “Why are we even going again?”

Bucky kisses Steve on the nose before he stands up, trying to put some distance between him and his alpha, who smells so damn good, the scent of him is nearly unbearable, all Bucky wants to do is to never leave this room, to never stop touching him, or kissing him. “Because it’ll be fun.”

Steve groans, his hand reaching out to grab Bucky’s and trying to pull him back towards him, back onto their bed that smells like the both of them. Pouting his lip, Steve tries to tug his omega back towards him.

Bucky takes another step away from Steve, using his grip on his hand to pull Steve towards him, away from the bed. Making his tone as serious as he can as he stands there, hair dishevelled and lips pink, “Steven, get up. You can kiss me later.”

“But I want to kiss you noooow.” Steve whines.

Bucky doesn’t want his resolve to break, is struggling, is honesty struggling to not straddle Steve as he lies there, propped up on one elbow looking at Bucky with so much love and desire in his eyes. He doesn’t want to leave this room, he doesn’t want to stop kissing Steve, he doesn’t want to let a second go by with Steve’s body pressed up against his, he doesn’t want to stop breathing his alpha in, he doesn’t want to stop grinding against him. But he-

There’s a knock on the door, a fist pounds against the wood and then Sam yells out, “You both decent? You better be fucking decent.”

Steve groans again as he sees Bucky’s softening resolve harden as he grins and heads to the door, “We’re clothed if that’s what you mean.”

Sam chuckles as Bucky opens the door, looks over at the alpha who is pressing his head into the duvet as he tries to escape Bucky’s scent and soak it up at the same time, and then laughs even harder. “None of the others wanted to come up here, didn’t want to bleach out their brains, but everyone says, hurry the fuck up, we are ready.”

Steve pulls the finger at Sam without lifting his head up from the bed. What Steve doesn’t quite realise is, that his brain is protecting itself as he breathes in the pillow. As he hears Sam descending down the stairs Steve pulls himself up from the bed, snakes his arms around _his_ omegas waist and then kisses him, hard. His tongue slips between soft lips and as Bucky moans into the kiss, Steve aligns their hips and kisses him even harder.

When Steve pulls away from Bucky, the omega can’t help but follow his alphas lips and whine a little as Steve chuckles and kisses his forehead before he turns his omega towards the door. One arm still wrapped around his omegas waist, the two of them head down the stairs, and it doesn’t even occur to Steve that he had just avoided a fight. It doesn’t even occur to him that he pressed his nose into the covers to avoid the scent of Sam, another alpha, so close to omega.

**…**

Nat notices it first. She always does. She knows what is happening well in advance. In truth she actually expected this to happen, is surprised that this is the first time this has happened, but has known that it was an eventuality. She picks up on it before they leave the house, but she doesn’t put it together until a few hours later. She notices the slight change in scent, but she doesn’t think much of it, not with them all in this house together, not with all the excitement and energy. She doesn’t think much of the way that Steve is finds himself being pulled to Bucky, and Bucky to Steve – that the two of them are happy to keep their own conversations, but are gravitating towards each other, aren’t all that far apart.

Steve is more protective of Bucky than normal, and Bucky is so goddamn clingy, something that the omega never normally is. In the last few hours, Nat has noticed that he is barely apart from Steve, and when he is Steve gets a little possessive which just makes Bucky melt more and ache for him, needing him closer, needing his lips on his and his arm wrapped around his waist.

Steve and Bucky are closer than usual, and stuck to each other and Steve is so damn protective of him, and at first Nat doesn’t think much of it, just like the others. But she is surprised, she has known Bucky for years, knows him better than almost anyone, and she knows that he is no lightweight omega. But she is also aware that he is totally smitten on Steve, that her best friend is completely besotted by the blonde alpha with the kind eyes.

**…**

It’s the third time it has happened in the last ten minutes, and each time it happens, instead of Bucky snapping at Steve and telling him that he can handle himself thank you very much, Bucky is leaning into Steve’s touch, a dopey smile curving his lips as stares dreamily up at his alpha.

When Bucky slips again, Steve is talking to Sam, some conversation about some class that Nat neither cares about nor can properly hear. Being the closest to Bucky, Nat catches the omega before he slides down the path, and just as Bucky smiles gratefully there is a low growl behind Nat.

Her head swivels as she feels Bucky shiver beside her, and Steve continues to growl as Bucky leans on Nat, her fingers wrapped around his arm. Nat fixes Steve a look, and he shakes his head, then himself – before biting back his growl with a forced apologetic smile.

Nat knows that smile, knows that look in his eyes, knows that he growled without even realising, that he growled at her before he could stop himself. As she unhands Bucky, she doesn’t fail to notice the way Steve’s hands are on him only seconds later, that his palms brush over where her body touched his, that Steve is scenting him without even realising it as he asks Bucky, “You okay baby?”

"God it's almost like-" Nat stops, word caught between her lips, glancing from Bucky to Steve again she takes a step towards Bucky her hand reaching out towards her, Steve doesn't snarl but he makes a small sound at the back of his throat and shifts forward, protecting Bucky.

"James can I smell you?" Nat asks, eyes on Bucky, he glances over to Steve whose frozen now, expression as clear as he can make it, Bucky nods and Nat rubs her fingers along his scent glands before leaning forward and pushing her nose against him. Steve stiffens, hand clinging to Bucky's now and as Nat sniffs again Steve almost rumbles. Nat steps back, palms up and glances to Clint.

"Steve can I-"

"Whatever you got to do," Steve interrupts, trying to work out what Nat is getting at. This time Bucky tenses, fingers digging into Steve's arm but not as possessively as Steve did. Sensing Bucky's discomfort Steve leans towards him. Clint sniffs him and shifts back as fast as he can, before nodding to Nat. 

Not interested in beating around the bush any longer, Nat looks straight at Bucky, and doesn’t move towards him like she probably would usually, instead she stays where she is and says, "You're in heat."

"No I'm not, that's not for another few days." Bucky shakes his head, and ignores the pointed look that Steve gives him. Bucky had promised that he wouldn’t be in heat until they got back, and Steve doesn’t even realise he shifts towards Bucky after Nat’s words, but suddenly his hand is curling around Bucky’s hip.

"You're going into heat Buck, I can smell it on you and so can Steve hence the upped protectiveness."

Bucky shakes his head, not at all convinced that Nat is right. He knows his cycle, he is just, well, no, this isn’t heat. "I'm not due for a few more days, I know my cycle by now Natalia."

"You're synced."

"But I'm not bonded." Bucky sighs, baring his neck to the rest of them that gets Steve shifting, pressed up against his back, and the others eyes flick to the unmarked column of Bucky’s throat before they look at each other. Steve’s built like a shit house, and would never hurt them, but bonded or not Bucky is his omega now, his omega who is going into heat while he’s going into rut, so they know better not to piss him off.

"Steve's almost in rut, you're almost in heat, he's late right?" Steve nods. He knows that he is pumping out pheromones right now and he can’t help it. The others have backed off, heading further down the trail leaving just the four of them, Clint’s hand in Nat’s, as he grins at Bucky and Steve, obviously finding the confusion hilarious.

"You're synced.” Clint says.

Bucky starts, “We’re not-” But the rest of his sentence gets ignored by everyone as Nat speaks over him, "Now go back and get everything you need in your room, you have the ensure so-"

Steve looks at Nat, watches her carefully for a few seconds. At first Bucky thinks perhaps he deems her as a threat, but he notices that Steve’s body isn’t tense, and he looks merely curious. Bucky still shifts a little closer to his alpha though. "You knew this would happen." Steve doesn’t ask, not really, simply states it.

Nat shrugs, "I suspected as much."

“How?” asks Steve. Beside him, Bucky is glaring at Nat just a little for not giving him a heads up that she suspected that this would happen. Bucky is still trying to figure out how he missed it, how he didn’t notice that he was going into heat, that he didn’t notice that Steve hadn’t gone into rut yet and that he was needy. God Bucky was not usually needy, not until his heat hit, and in the last few days his need to be around Steve had gotten stronger and in the last few hours, even the thought of being away from him had been unbearable.

“Look at you, course you would sync early.”

That doesn’t really explain anything to Bucky. Not at all. He doesn’t understand why they have synced at all, let alone why she would suspect them of syncing. “Nat?”

“You have this pull, towards each other, that despite your own stubbornness could not be avoided. Honestly I’m surprised you haven’t synced before at this rate. Now go, go bond, go knot – just keep it contained.” Nat doesn’t want to explain it to them now, knows that there isn’t any time. They need to get home as soon as possible, they need to get away from people, and they need to do it now. She remembers what she was like after bonding with Clint, after their first knot. She knows.

Bucky has questions, of course he has questions, he always wants to know more, wants to know as much as he can. But he doesn’t need to be told twice. He is hours away from his heat, and if he’s needy already, if Steve is protective already, neither of them want to be anywhere near anyone else when this hits. Steve may have a heart of gold, but if he’s in rut and Bucky, his omega is in heat, they can’t be around anyone.

And nor does Bucky want to.

Grinning at Nat, he resists the urge to pull her into a quick hug as he knows exactly how his alpha would react to his hugging another alpha. Steve knows Nat is his best friend, she is a bonded alpha anyway, so she isn’t a threat – but with their heat and rut coinciding for the first time, Bucky knows better than to get another alphas scent on his skin.  Bucky doesn’t want it on his skin either, he wants Steve, he wants his scent to cling to his skin, he wants it shrouding him, he wants it now.

Bucky can’t take his eyes off Steve, instead he stands there, staring at his alpha for a few seconds, as he bites into his bottom lip, his hand still in his alphas. He is so close to his heat, he can feel the waters swell, he knows the wave is close now – he needs Steve now, he wants Steve more than anything, and in just a few short hours, he will have him, and Steve will have him. They will have each other in ways they’ve never had anyone else before, in ways they have never been had before.

Clint chuckles as they two of them continue to stare at each other, Steve’s fingers curling around Bucky’s hip, fingertips digging into the top of his shirts possessively as he feels Nat and Clint’s eyes on his omega. “Go for fuck sakes.”

Bucky nods, glances to Clint for a moment, and opens his mouth to say something in reply, but Steve tugs on his hand, and then the two of them are turning away, and heading back down the path and back to their car. Back to their care where privacy awaits, where their future awaits – where they are just one step closer to bonding, to being each other’s for ever. Bucky whimpers at that thought, a whimper that makes Steve’s steps falter for a second before he is running even faster.

**…**

Steve can’t help but keep his hand in Bucky’s the entire way back to their car, can’t help but tug Bucky along with him as the both of them run, run through the words, their scents flaring as they haul ass back to the car.

They both know that Nat is right, Steve knows it in the way that Bucky can’t stop biting his bottom lip and at every opportunity he gets never fails to press his body up against Steve’s as they run through the forest. Steve knows it in the way that every tree he passes appears to be a solid option to push Bucky up against, that every small patch of forest floor that is filled with twigs and plant life he has to fight the urge to push Bucky down on.

Nat is right, they are riding the crest of the wave right now, but soon it’ll crash, soon they will crash and Steve won’t be able to stop himself, and neither will Bucky. Steve will be in rut and Bucky will be heat. Not only will it be their first rut, first heat together, it will be the first time they have ever synced, and it will be the first time that they have ever bonded.

The idea of having separate Christmas’ in just a few days now seems to be a pipe dream from here on out. Bucky will be a puddle of neediness and grief if Steve leaves him in the next few days, and Steve won’t cope being away from _his_ omega so soon after bonding. But neither of them can think about that now, not when they have made it to the car – not when it takes every single cell in Steve’s body to make him get into the drivers seat and start driving, instead of pushing Bucky down onto the backseat and making _his_ omega moan is name.

It doesn’t help that Bucky is wriggling in the seat beside him as they pull out of the carpark, “Do you need to sit in the back seat babe?” Steve asks after Bucky has been squirming for a full two minutes.

Bucky scowls for a moment before he whines at the thought of being that far away from his alpha. Startled by the whine, Steve has to take a deep breath in as he keeps his eyes on the road, fighting against every instinct that is telling him to look after his delicious smelling omega, who is pumping out the scent of raspberry liquorice all through the car, making Steve delirious with want.

**…**

It’s only been ten minutes of driving when Bucky’s phone goes off, he glances down at his screen, sighs at the time and tells Steve the jist of the message, “They’re heading out for dinner to give us a few hours alone.”

Steve waits a few seconds before he prompts, “And…”

“They said to keep it contained to our room.” Bucky answers with a small smile on his face. Steve has the air conditioning on high. He’s too possessive to open the windows, doesn’t want another alpha getting a whiff of _his_ omega, but can’t focus with Bucky’s heat scent filling the car.

Another few seconds passes before Steve glances over at Bucky who is staring out the front window, “And…”

The corners of Bucky’s lips curl upwards as he glances at Steve through his eyelashes and tells him, voice soft, “Sam wants me to tell you if you break the headboard or the bed, you gotta replace it.”

Steve clears his throat and pointedly keeps his eyes on the road, and Bucky shuffles his in seat beside him. Eyes flicking from the road for a moment, Steve tries to keep the speed limit in mind as he puts his foot down a little harder on the accelerator.

This is their first heat together. The others don’t count, not really. This is their first heat together that has counted, properly counted and this is Bucky’s first time, this is his first time, he doesn’t want it to happen in a jeep on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, but if they don’t get back fast, they mightn’t’ have a choice.

**…**

Bucky is trying to be patient, he is trying to be good, he wants to be good for Steve, he wants to be good for his alpha, but he wants his alpha. He wants his alpha to claim him, to let his fingernails bite into his skin, to press kisses down his chest, to knot inside of him – he whines at the thought and sends out another wave of his scent, "Steeeevie."

Despite himself, Steve holds his breath, trying to fight off his instincts as he continues to try in vain to allow the air conditioning to rid the car of Bucky’s intoxicating scent, but it isn’t really helping. Not really. He can still smell Bucky, he can still smell his omega, who he wants to kiss and taste and mark and knot…. He ignores the strain in his shorts as he bites out, "We're close now Buck."

"You said that like ten minutes ago," Bucky sighs, to wrapped up in his own troubles to notice the strain in Steve’s voice. Part of Bucky does want to make it back to the house, wants to make it back to their bed, where they can stay for hours, for days – but he doesn’t want to wait.

"It was only five.” It had been fifteen minutes actually, but neither of them had noticed the actual time crawling back as they both fought against their instincts, both of them wanting to get back to the house but neither of them wanting to wait that long. Bucky wants to get back to the house cause he wants a big comfy bed and a shower and food – but Steve’s reasons are less logical more possessive, more protective. The house is easier to defend than a car, he wants to be able to protect his omega while he knots him, while he bonds him – and in a car, out in the open, he can’t – and Steve  may very likely beat the shit out of anyone who gets too close. Which is exactly why Nat and the rest of them are staying out of the house for a few hours – none of them want to risk their lives, or hear the sounds of their best friends bonding for the first time.

**…**

"God Steve I can't," Bucky whines again as he shuffles closer to alpha for the third time in the last few minutes. He has some conscious thought left, which is why he is staying in his chair, which is why he isn’t straddling Steve, who is in fact still driving so in need of seeing the road. But conscious thought aside, Bucky needs to get closer to _his_ alpha, and a hand squeezing his thigh so hard it’ll leave an imprint is helping, but it isn’t enough. He needs more. He needs his alphas hands all over him, he needs to breath in his scent, he needs his lips on him, god he needs him _in_ him.

Steve tries to be stern, he tries to keep his tone steady and cool, and he manages, mostly. "You heard Nat you're still a few hours away."

"That was over an hour ago and you're closer than me."

Steve sighs, and starts, "So wh-"

"You smell so good." Bucky nuzzles against him, nose pressed against Steve's scent glands.  
Steve is radically losing focus on the road, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel. He doesn't have much strength left, nothing but bare instinct and it is taking all his focus to not pull the car over. Foot pressed against the accelerator, he lets Bucky press kisses down his neck, sucking on skin and catching it between teeth.

"Buck." Steve moans, it's meant to be a warning, a caution, a strict tone telling him to stop but he only begs for more.

Continuing to suck against skin for a few more seconds, Bucky pulls back and admires his work. He doesn’t want to stop, but he also knows that _his_ alpha needs to keep his focus on the road, so begrudgingly he says, “I’ll keep my lips to myself for now.”

Steve chuckles, his eyes on the road, where he knows they need to be but not at all where they want to be. “And your hands?”

“I can’t guarantee anything.” Bucky smirks as his fingers curl around Steve’s thigh and he gives it a squeeze.

**…**

_Steve honestly doesn’t know how they made it back to the house, he doesn’t know how they managed it, how he didn’t just pull over on the side of the road and pull Bucky into his lap, let the omega grind against him as they kissed. He honestly doesn’t know how he managed to not crash, how he managed to make it to the house with Bucky’s fingers slipped down the front of his pants, his fingers absentmindedly stroking him as Bucky watched the road, eagerly watching for signs that told him how close they were to the house._

_They manage to park the car, unlock the door and get inside, all without touching each other. The door locked behind them, Steve looks down at his omega, his beautiful omega who is biting down on his bottom lip as he looks up at Steve, breathing in Steve’s scent which is  making him a little delirious. They stand there, still for a moment, just staring at each other in the foyer of the empty house, and then Bucky is cupping Steve’s face and crashing his lips against his. Steve doesn’t wait a single second to reciprocate, his hands going to Bucky’s thighs before he hoists his omega up and Bucky wraps his legs around his alpha, his mouth never leaving Steve’s as Steve takes them upstairs, holding Bucky with one hand, the other guiding his way._

_Steve has only one thought left, one thought that pushes him to their room. He can barely think of the others without growling, doesn’t want the alphas anywhere near his omega, and in the back of his mind he also doesn’t want his friends having to come home and seeing him and Bucky together. He needs privacy, but he also needs a place that he can defend. He needs their room, their bed that is coated with their scent, their clothes in the cupboard, and the room without a lingering scent of another alpha._

_“Steve” Bucky manages to moan, and Steve murmurs back, leaning close and brushing a lingering kiss against Bucky's jaw, nuzzling into his neck with a contented sigh when he catches the scent of his own shampoo on Bucky's skin._

_Bucky can’t really think, not right now, not with Steve so close, not with Steve smelling so goddamn intoxicating, and despite wanting to be as close to Steve as he can be, wanting to have Steve’s body pressed against his, both hands remaining where they are, fingertips digging into the flesh of his ass as Steve pulls his crotch closer to his – Bucky wriggles away. He doesn’t want his back against the door, and his lips against Steve’s, well he does, he just wants something else more._

_Steve makes a soft noise of protest as Bucky unwraps his legs from around Steve’s waist, but as soon as Bucky’s feet hit the floor, he is flipping them, pushing Steve up against the door and sinking to his knees in front of his alpha._

_Bucky sucks in a breath, the heat pushing him past the fear of not knowing what exactly he is doing. He fumbles a little on Steve’s button, but pushes Steve’s hand away when it tries to offer some assistance. Bucky moans a little, biting down on his bottom lip as he tugs Steve’s briefs and shorts down. Steve watches his omega, and then groans, hands making fists as Bucky licks at his head before wrapping those lips around him, one hand gripping Steve’s thigh and gripping his base._

_Instinct and the heat help with a lot of things, but when Steve grips Bucky’s hair harder and pulls him further down his shaft, Bucky chokes, and pulls back. Steve’s grip loosens, his look of ecstasy fading to worry but Bucky just gives him a grin, wraps his hand around Steve and wraps his mouth back around his alpha, as much as he can handle. With his free hand, Bucky guides Steve’s back to his head, giving his alpha back the control, knowing that Steve knows he can’t take all of him, that Steve can’t hit the back of his throat and make it a pleasurable experience for the both of them._

_Steve head hits the back of the door as he moans, the heat of Bucky’s mouth wrapped around his, as his tongue swirls around the tip. Bucky’s fingers wander, cupping his balls before he’s tracing circles around Steve’s entrance, and Steve is gripping Bucky’s hair and moaning his name._

_“I’m gonna, I’ll-” Steve moans, trying to give his omega some warning, but all Bucky does is swirl his tongue around him and try to take more of him between those pink lips as he pushes a finger inside of his alpha, and sucks at the droplets that taste just like Steve smells._

_Steve wants to last, wants to knot his omega, but he can’t put enough focus into pulling out of his omegas mouth, and doesn’t have enough control of his brain to actually formulate any sentences contain any structure or actual content stringed together in anything other than a nonsensical collection of bitten off moans and half words._

_Bucky whines as he grinds against the carpet, trying to get some friction, but when Steve moans again, Bucky forgets about his dick straining against his shorts so hard it hurts and tries not vomit as he takes Steve down as far as he can. Steve’s head slams back against the door and Steve’s grip on Bucky’s hair tightens, as his head hits the back of Bucky’s throat and the world whites out as he moans Bucky’s name._

_Bucky moans around Steve and slides off after a few seconds of watching Steve through his eyelashes, watching his alpha pant the press of his fingers against him growing lighter with each breath. Bucky swallows, gags a little at the warm liquid that trickles down his throat, but loving the taste of Steve._

**_…_ **

_Bucky’s lip quivers as Steve pulls him to his feet, he can’t help it, not that he tries, not with Steve just a hairsbreadth away. He can’t focus, not on anything, not with his legs feeling like jelly and his mind bordering on delirious, not able to cope with Steve’s thick scent wrapped around him, but not with Steve touching him._

_“Stevie.” He doesn’t really realise he’s said it, the word escaping like a breath, needy and pathetic, not willing to wait another second longer. Lips part, to say something, he hasn’t quite worked out what yet, but he doesn’t get the chance because Steve’s hands grip his hips, pulling him close before his lips are on his, tongue invading a breath later._

_Bucky moans into their kiss, slick seeping down his legs now, he knows his briefs are already soaked through, and he pulls Steve impossibly close, not wanting even a breath between them. Steve’s hands shift, one finding its way to the front of Bucky’s pants, and Bucky whines as Steve pushes him away a little to shove them down._

_Bucky shudders as Steve presses skin against skin, and Bucky wants to taste so much more, wants to feel so much more, finds himself not bothering with Steve’s buttons as he grabs his shirt with both hands, and yanks it apart, pausing only to moan at the sound of Steve’s feral growl, before he’s pushing Steve’s shirt over and off his shoulders, down his arms and dropping it onto the floor to join his own pants._

_Bed only two steps away, Steve doesn’t waste any time. Bucky’s shirt joins Steve’s pants on the floor, and then Steve is pushing Bucky down against the mattress, lips pressed together for a moment before Bucky flips them, sucking kisses down Steve’s neck as the blonde gets out a broken, “God Bucky.”_

_Bucky moans, low and needy, no longer content with leaving welts on Steve’s collarbone, he lets himself be pulled up for a searing kiss, teeth pulling on lips before Steve grinds against Bucky, and Bucky is latching his arms around Steve. Fingertips leaving marks on Steve’s back as Steve puts little red splotches on Bucky’s neck and collarbone, unable to resist marking him as his own._

_“Mine.” Steve breathes against skin, sucking on Bucky’s pulse point, teasingly close to his scent glands. Bucky wants, he wants Steve, to- Steve grinds down against Bucky again, and all Bucky manages is a broken, “Yours.”_

_Steve doesn’t give a thought to the others who won’t be back for another few hours as he trails kisses across Bucky’s collarbone. He doesn’t give a thought to anything else, because right now, his entire world is Bucky. Bucky is all he feels beneath his fingertips, his soft skin, his back arching beneath his palms. Bucky is all he smells – his scent is filling him up and all he wants is more, more of Bucky, wants to taste his scent on his tongue. Bucky is all he tastes, his tongue against his, the hot intrusion, more than welcome as Steve pulls his omega even closer. Bucky is all he sees, his gorgeous omega, his blue eyes practically black as he watches Steve, his Steve. Bucky is all he can hear, the breathy moans, the quickening breath, the way his name keeps spilling from his lips, the crest of each wave spilling out off of Bucky’s tongue and making Steve need him even more._

_Bucky is his everything. Not just now, but always. And he knows that this is right._

_He can feel it, feels it in the way his skin is on fire, how his hands cannot still, how they wish to touch absolutely all of Bucky. Steve is hungry, hungry for all of him, wants to make his omega happy, wants to make his omega his. He wants to taste him on his tongue, wants to make him moan and cry out, wants to knot him, wants – Bucky is grinding against him, his kisses hot and insistent, and Steve isn’t working on logic anymore, his brain has long ceased running the show, he is working on instinct now._

_Bucky is his. His omega. And Steve is his. His alpha._

_They are each others. And Steve needs to be closer to Bucky, even with skin on skin, even with Bucky pressed up against all of him, his tongue in his mouth, his hands on his body – he needs more. He needs to make Bucky is own, he needs to mark him, he needs to knot him and he needs to do it now._

_“Bu-” Steve starts, not seeking permission, he knows that this is what Bucky wants, but to tell him that he wants him too, that he wants this, that this isn’t his rut. Bucky is the omega, but Steve may be the naïve one it comes to this, and Steve wants Bucky to know that he loves him just as much as he does him._

_“I know baby I know, please-” Whatever Bucky was going to say is cut off as he moans, his head thrown back as Steve hand slips up from his upper thigh and takes his omega in hand._

_Eyes pressed shut, lips no longer kissing Steve back, Bucky stills for a moment. Steve chuckles before pressing kisses across Bucky’s jaws. Lips linger over his scent glands, and Bucky trembles as Steve ghosts his teeth over his glands. Bucky wants him to do it, needs him to do it, and as Steve shifts away, his lips continuing his trail down his chest, Bucky whimpers._

_“Patience baby,” Steve teases, as he presses kisses down Bucky’s stomach now, his stubble rubbing against Bucky’s skin as Steve catches the glare Bucky shoots at him._

_They lose track of time, lips on each others as their hands roam across skin, fingertips biting into skin and moans falling from lips. Steve can’t think, not past his omega, not past the soft pants  and moans he is making, not past the hard line of Bucky’s dick pressed against him as the omega pulls Steve closer, tongue licking into his mouth, and teeth nibbling on his bottom lip for a moment before Bucky is ghosting his lips over Steve’s cheek and sucking on his earlobe._

_Bucky wants to tell Steve something, but he isn’t really sure what it is, isn’t sure what he wants to say, what is so urgently insistent that is pulling him out of his delirious state of pleasure and attempting him to think._

_“Steve.” Is all he manages to get out, his name breaking off into a soft sigh as Steve nuzzles against his scent glands and grips his hip with his right hand, pulling his omegas thigh over his. Bucky moans again, all he can smell is Steve, all he can taste is Steve and all he can feel is Steve pressed against him, hard and insistent._

_“Iloveyou,” is all Bucky manages before he is moaning once again, and he can’t find the words to tell Steve that he makes him happier than he thought possible, because his tongue feels heavy like the rest of him, and his world is narrowed down to Steve._

_Narrowed down to how soft and warm Steve’s mouth is, to the feel of his tongue against him, to the feel of Steve’s fingertips biting into his thighs, to the breathy moans that are coming out of Steve’s mouth, shaped by the weight of Bucky on his tongue. Bucky’s fingers may be gripping onto Steve’s scalp, but Steve’s in the position of power here, Steve is the one in charge, he is, and always will be. And that’s exactly what Bucky wants. He trusts Steve, trusts him completely, trusts him with his life. He doesn’t want Steve to be in control of him, he wants Steve to take care of him, and he trusts that he will. Bucky will give himself to Steve, and in return, he knows that Steve will care for his heart and that he will give him his._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *goes and hides*
> 
> Sorry for the lateness, there's more a/b/o smut to come, hopefully this keeps you sated for know though. Comments will be much appreciated cause this chapter was a bitch to write at times.


	14. Oceans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after ;)

_There’s a crack, a splintering of wood, and Bucky chuckles as Steve groans a top of him, his hips stilling as he pulls Bucky into his lap and Bucky’s giggles stop. Glancing back his lips curl at the sight of the broken headboard but he doesn’t get a chance to comment before Steve’s mouth his against his, lips hot and insistent as he licks his way in, and thrusts into Bucky._

_-_

_“Yours.” Bucky sighs, and Steve growls at the sound, leaning down to graze teeth over skin before clamping down on his shoulder, not quite ready to bond Bucky yet._

_Bucky moans again, body arched and beautiful, and Steve just cannot get enough._

_Bucky’s just so damn close, and he knows he is begging, pleading, breathlessly moaning in Russian and maybe German with just a touch of Japanese and French and English thrown in, and Steve doesn’t know what he’s saying, but he doesn’t need to._

_Steve isn’t kissing him anymore, just lips guiding over skin, neck taunt with exertion before he is shaking his head and forcing the words out, “Buck, I can’t anymore, I need, bond you, I need to make you mine, bite-”_

_“Yours.” Is all Bucky can manage, moving to his head to the side, baring his neck, eyes falling shut as Steve moans on top of him, before lips ghost over skin and teeth are clamping down just above Bucky’s scent glands and Bucky cannot hold on any longer. Not with Steve’s teeth inside him, body hot and stilling above him, and then Bucky is moaning and coming all over his chest, untouched._

_Steve doesn’t last long. Not with Bucky moaning his name, breath hot against Steve’s neck and fingers digging into his shoulders before hands are falling limp to Bucky’s side and with two more thrusts, Steve is spilling inside him, hot and filling, lips sucking on Bucky’s new bond bite, breathing, “Mine”, into his skin._

_Bucky whines and shifts a little under Steve, already loving the way that Steve’s knot is filling him up. Just aware of himself enough to not crush Bucky under his weight, Steve rolls over, pulling Bucky with him, onto his chest as he presses kisses to Bucky’s jaw and cards his fingers through his hair._

_-_

_Steve trails fingers up Bucky’s chest, touching his bitten red lips before he slips his thumb inside and growls as Bucky holds it against his tongue._

_He hears Steve chuckle, low and soft before he’s curling an arm around his waist and Bucky’s head is dropping onto Steve’s chest, and his eyes flutter shut, clenching around Steve before pressing a kiss to his chest._

_He can’t explain it, but he feels, safe, completely and utterly content. And as he fingers brush over is fresh bond bite, Steve catches his hand and presses a kiss to it, lips curling into a smile, and without forethought Bucky breathes, “God I love you so fucking much Stevie.”_

_“I love you too Buck.”_

_“Yours.” Bucky sighs against Steve as he feels himself slipping, he won’t be able to stay awake much longer, not in Steve’s arms where he feels so safe. He’s exhausted, his limbs are heavy, and he never wants to untangle himself from Steve._

_Bucky is Steve’s now, and Steve is Bucky’s. Just like they had been since the beginning, the only difference now, is that they have the bond bites to prove it._

…

Bucky slips out of bed, leaving a sleeping angelic Steve in their bed. He looks too peaceful to wake up, so Bucky kisses him softly on the nose before he pulls on a pair of Steve’s track pants and steals the shirt his alpha was in yesterday. It doesn’t make up for not having Steve beside him, but god it smells just like him.

With one last look at his sleeping alpha, Bucky pulls the door to a close behind him before he pads down the staircase, skips the creaking step and heads into the kitchen where he knows he will find Clint. He doesn’t want to wake anyone up so he slinks through the house, but makes sure to make noise before entering the kitchen, not much, just enough not to startle Clint but he needn’t of bothered, Clint could smell him the second he stepped off the bottom stair.

"I'm gonna steal Nat for a few." Bucky says, resting his hand on Clint’s shoulder for a moment.

Clint nuzzles into the touch, pushing his back closer to Bucky. Close omegas can smell omegas in pre-heat almost as well as their mates can, but Bucky isn’t in pre-heat, he’s in heat and even though Bucky isn't dosing the room with his scent, Clint still wants to cuddle. "I'm gonna steal Nat for a few." Bucky repeats, it's not really a question but it sort of is, it's a courtesy.

"Yeah fine." Clint reluctantly pulls away from Bucky, "be back soon though the pancakes will be ready,"

Bucky does a lazy salute and smirks, "Yes sir, won't be late for pancakes."

Bucky is a few steps away from Clint when he suddenly remembers to ask, "Oh! Can I see it?" Bucky doesn't need to ask what he means, he knows what Clint is asking. Head tilted to the side his eyes flutter shut as he fingers brush his bond, still fresh and making him yearn for his alpha. 

"Can I?" Clint asks, standing in front of Bucky now fingers hovering above the bond mark. Bucky nods, head barely moving but Clint sees and his fingers skim it as he leans forward. "This is a good one."

"Yeah?" Bucky asks eagerly, it feels perfect, it feels right and makes the world feel just-

Clint smiles, gaze meeting Bucky's, "Yeah."

"I really want to hug you congrats but you smell so good, I won't let go. Nat's in our room." Clint takes a step away from Bucky, and covers his nose with his hand. He can’t help but want to hug him, want to cuddle up to him; Bucky’s scent is driving him crazy. Bucky may be a bonded omega, so other alphas aren’t attracted to his scent, but omegas still want to cuddle up like crazy, and right now Clint has breakfast to cook and Bucky has Nat to see.

"Thanks" Bucky isn't sure what he's thanking him for, so many things at once really and Clint smiles back at him as Bucky beams before running to Nat and Clint's room.

At the back of his mind, he wonders if climbing into Nat’s bed beside her is really the best thing to do right now. It probably won’t be the best thing coming back to Steve, his alpha, smelling of someone else. So instead of climbing into bed, he runs in, shutting the door behind him, not as quietly as he probably should of but Nat is already awake, and if she wasn’t, Bucky jumps up onto the bed, jumps a few time before falling to his knees beside Nat, grinning like crazy as he tilts his chin up and leans forward.

Her nose scrunches up and she pulls the blankets up, burrowing into the bed. She’s been awake for a least ten minutes, but not awake awake, she is still on the border between sleep and consciousness and she wants to linger there for another half hour at least.  “James it is 7 fuck-”

“Natalia.” Bucky cuts across her, jiggling the bed and shifting himself closer to Nat, silently wishing for her to open her eyes, and not roll away from him.

Sighing, her eyes open, her nose already scrunched up. She groans and her eyes flutter shut again as she starts, “You smell like-”  Eyes flashing open she sits up hurriedly, “James did you-”

“Yup.” Bucky answers, popping the ‘p’ as he shows her his mark. She knows better than to touch it, keeps her hands to herself, keeps her hands off the freshly marked omega even though she really wants to hug him right now, but she knows that she really shouldn’t. Not when he’s in heat, not when he’s freshly bonded, not when-

“Is Steve awake?”

Bucky shakes his head, “Nope.” He doesn’t understand what Nat is trying to get at, well he does, he just doesn’t really understand why.

“James-” Nat starts. Steve will be protective, very protective. Not only is Bucky, is omega, in heat, but they are freshly bonded … Bucky really shouldn’t have left him, and certainly not for another alpha, regardless of how they’re practically siblings.

Bucky just rolls his eyes and extends his hand and pulls her out of bed. “He’ll be asleep for a wee while yet, walk with me?”

She gives him a look, but doesn’t say anything. Instead she smiles and watches him for a few seconds before she comments, “You look happy James.”

Bucky beams, the smile curling his lips, and reaching his eyes, crinkling the corners as he replies, “I am happy Natalia.”

Nat takes a step forward and then takes half a step back. “I want to hug you right now James.”

“Then why-”

Nat just sighs and rolls her eyes as she intertwines her fingers with his and pulls him out of her room. “Later James, later.” He’s new at this, and he’s happy and freshly bonded, etiquette will come later. Right now, Nat just wants to talk to her best friend, right now, Nat doesn’t really care much for the sleeping Steve Rogers in his bed who will no doubt miss his omega as soon as he wakes.

Nat doesn’t have it in her to convince Bucky to go back to his alpha right now, not when she’s missed him, not when she knows Bucky needs to chat, to freak out, to just, well be Bucky. He needs her now, and she kind of needs him too.

**…**

Bucky takes about a good quarter an hour of Nat’s teasing as they walk down the wharf before he smirks and pushes her in the lake. But he doesn’t do it fast enough and sure enough she is grabbing his right hand and pulling him in with her.

"I can't swim!" Bucky shouts, well more squeals, the water is a lot fucking colder than he expected.

Nat splashes him and grins, "That's a lie and you know it.”

"True but it could be true." Bucky whines. Splashing Nat before attempting to swim to shore, desperately wanting to get back on dry land and find a big fluffy towel to wrap around himself.

"Uh huh."

. They’ve swam in colder, and as they splash each other and swim and act like they children, they forget that maybe they should get out. Nat grabs Bucky’s ankle, pulling him back towards her before pulling him under the water with her for a few seconds, then popping back up, a few seconds before Bucky just to splash Bucky when he broke for air. Hand wiping down his face, Bucky sighs before carding his fingers through his hair, "You shouldn't have pulled me in."

"And you shouldn't have pushed me." Nat reasons, splashing him again before swimming off ahead of him, neither of them attempt to get back on the wharf, both of them swimming towards the house, pausing only to splash each other or dunk the other under water and swim ahead

**…**

They climb out a few minutes later and Bucky pulls off his shirt and squeezes the water out and Nat is staring at his chest which is covered in hickeys and bruises, he moves to cover it, but it’s too late.

"Oh my god." Nat is mouthing, fingers running over his chest before she pulls him into a hug. "You found a good one aye James." Bucky is laughing and pushing her off and she squeezes him before letting go, hand on his chest-

Nat glances over to the housed they are pretty close now, and a few steps in front of it is Steve, arms crossed watching the two of them. Hands up, Nat takes a quick step backwards. Bucky gives her a confused look before she nods her head towards Steve and Bucky follows her gaze. It takes him about a two seconds before Steve’s scent hits him and his legs turn to jelly and he grips Nat’s arm to keep him upright, an action that does not calm Steve’s expression.

"He looks pissed."

"No, he doesn't" Bucky counters, shaking his head, fingers still curled around Nat’s arm. She gives him a pointed look and he looks over to Steve again. "He's not pissed."

"JAMES BUCHANAN-"

"Yeah he's pissed," Bucky sighs, utterly defeated. By this stage he should know that Nat is pretty much always right, but that doesn’t mean he always has to get on board it.

Nat just gives him a total shit eating grin as Bucky lets go of Nat and shifts just a little away from her, "Told ya,"

"BARNES!" Steve finishes. He hasn’t moved, is still standing in front of the house, arms crossed and jaw set. Bucky and Nat have stopped walking too, mainly cause Bucky is almost a puddle on the floor, Steve’s possessive heady sent is almost ruling him into a submissive puddle. Maybe a few hours later it would, but right now, it’s simply an almost.

"Run, Nat, run," Bucky mutters with a small smirk.

Nat chuckles as she takes in Steve’s expression before turning to Bucky, "This is adorable, but I'll go, let him be all territorial, shit I didn't touch your bond did I?"

"No but Clint did." Bucky supplies helpfully, and earns an exasperated sigh from Nat, who pushes her palm to her face as she rolls her eyes. Honestly, she shouldn’t really be surprised, and yet she is.

"Oh James you are hopeless sometimes."

Bucky ignores her and just keeps walking, heading closer to his thoroughly pissed off alpha. Nat is caught between snickering and wanting to run back into the freezing lake to avoid this encounter. She could take Steve ordinarily, well probably, but with his in rut and his newly bonded mate in heat, even though neither of them are peaking right now, Nat knows that she wouldn’t have much of a chance.

"Hey Stevie." Bucky says sweetly, stopping with only three steps between him and Steve. He smiles and Nat takes another step away from Bucky, towards the house, but not really towards Steve.

"Don't Stevie me."

"I'll just uh- pancakes." Nat says slipping past them, she ignores Steve's glare, won't hold it against him later. Not when Bucky's still in heat, not when Steve's in rut, and not when they are still freshly bonded.

"I woke up and you were gone!"

"And..." Bucky starts. Just because he is Steve’s bonded omega doesn’t mean that he needs to notify him of his every movement, doesn’t mean that-

"Bucky." Steve whines, and Bucky is pulled out of his thoughts, and notices the expression on Steve’s face. It isn’t possessive anymore, it’s desperate, and anxious. And then it occurs to Bucky just how he would feel if he woke up to an empty bed this morning, and he feels like absolute shit for making Steve wake up alone and no doubt freak out and worry.

"I'm sorry I just, I needed to freak out to Nat and I-" Steve growls at that. And Bucky stops, takes a step forward and presses himself against Steve, nuzzling him and scenting himself, body going pliant against Steve as he keeps pumps out protective pheromones. Arms wrapped around him, Bucky shifts himself, bearing his bond bite to Steve. Steve's scent changes, shifts just a little and if Bucky wasn't already completely gone he would be. Teeth ghost over his bond mark, and he lets out a whine, low and desperate and Steve kisses it, nuzzling him as the omega shivers. 

He smells faintly of Nat he knows he does and his bond bite must smell a little of Clint, but perhaps the lake water washed that away. Right now he can’t really think about either, because Steve’s scent is all around him, and his hands are a firm weight on his body, grounding him, and god he can’t believe he’d lived his whole life without this feeling. This feeling of completely happiness, he feels safe in Steve’s arm, utterly content, needing nothing more.

Maybe a few hours later, a less satiated Steve would claim Bucky outside the house without thought, but the next wave of Bucky's wave hasn't hit and while Steve's in rut, it's not as strong right now, it's only the start of it, it's never consistent the first time they sync up.

"Pancakes." Bucky says breathily a few seconds later, he can't stand by himself yet and not does he want to. Steve nods, and kisses Bucky again, the warm press of lips making Bucky want to sink down to his knees and he tries to do so but Steve catches him by his shoulders and kisses him chastely before pulling away.

"Pancakes." Steve repeats, arm snaking around Bucky's middle, eyes ghosting over Bucky's bond mark before he nuzzles Bucky again, scenting himself.

Steve shifts, moving towards the house but Bucky’s fingers curl around his wrist, pulling him back to him. Ocean blue eyes met greys, and Bucky whispers almost pleadingly, "Don't be mean to Nat."

"What?"

Bucky doesn’t roll his eyes are Steve’s obliviousness, but it is a near thing. "I know you can't help it, but-"

"I'll try baby." Steve presses a kiss to the corner of Bucky’s lips and pulls back but Bucky’s hand shifts, wrapping around the back of Steve’s neck and pulling his lips back to him.

Hitching a leg up to hook around Steve’s waist, pulling his body flush against his, Bucky’s head tips backwards and he sighs as Steve’s presses a trail of kisses down Bucky’s throat. Lips hesitate on Bucky’s bond bite and Steve glances up at him throw hooded lashes and Bucky nods, head barely moving and then Steve’s teeth are nipping into the bite and Bucky’s fingertips dig into Steve’s shoulders, leaving little red welts as he moans.

Eyes shut, refusing to open for a moment, Bucky barely manages to get the word out as a question, “Steve?”

Foreheads pressed against each other, Steve’s breathes against Bucky’s cheek, “Yeah?”

Distracted by Steve’s mouth, Bucky doesn’t answer for a few minutes. Both hands cupping Steve’s face, he kisses Steve chastely on the lips, not able to get enough of him, before he asks with a smile, “Will they mind if we take our pancakes to our room?”

“If the next words out of your mouth involve something to do with cream we won’t make it to our fucking room.” Steve threatens, grinning at his omega and wondering if he could even make it back to their room without kissing him again.

Bucky smirks, chuckles and presses a soft kiss to Steve’s nose. “However tempting that is, I’m opting for silence now.”

“God you won’t be saying that in a few minutes.” Steve says before arms are wrapping around Bucky’s waist and soft lips against him. The kiss is perfect, maybe not the best kiss, a little too much teeth and a far too eager tongue at first, but they settle into it, and with Steve’s heady scent wrapping around Bucky, Bucky lets Steve hold him up, lets Steve push him against the side of the house, only a step away from the door, and he moans against Steve’s mouth as Steve repositions himself, sliding his knee in between Bucky’s thighs.

“Stevie.” Bucky moans, but tries his best to keep his expression stern as he pulls away from Steve’s lips. As much as he wants to, he knows they can’t really continue where they are, not outside against Sam’s uncles house. Not when they have a perfectly good bed in their own room upstairs, which in all honesty Bucky isn’t sure they can make it too.

Steve’s mouth follows Bucky’s, lips kissing cheek when Bucky turns away from Steve’s mouth, knowing full well that those damn lips are distracting enough to make him forget entirely about why they really should head upstairs. “So what, you can tease but I can’t?” Steve groans, before sucking on Bucky’s ear lobe, lips pulling just enough to get Bucky arching into his touch again.

“Not when I’m so wet for you Steve.”

Steve groans, rests his forehead against Bucky’s shoulder and takes a deep breath before he mutters against his skin, “Forgo pancakes?”

Words not much more than a whisper, Bucky grins and takes Steve’s hand in his, “Fuck yes.”

They manage to make it back inside and to the kitchen with Steve stopping to put his lips on Bucky, but he needs to, god he needs to. One arm wrapped possessively around Bucky’s waist Steve starts, “We’re going to-”

Mouths and noses quickly covered, Clint takes a step back from them as he tells them off, “Fucking hell you both reek, go have sex, we’ll save you some pancakes.”

They don’t need to be told twice. Heading out of the room, they almost miss Sam’s yelled, “Try keep it down!”

“Can’t make any promises.” Bucky shouts back, grinning at Steve as he pulls him up the staircase, his hand tightly holding on to his. Not that he has to pull him by any means, Steve is barely a breath behind. His scent is already flaring, it was from Bucky’s heat scent alone, but as they passed through the kitchen, where scents intermingled, Steve smelt the others spike, something they can’t help when they smell an omega in heat. But it’s not an omega in heat, it’s Bucky, it’s _his_ omega in heat, and he is protective at the best of times. But freshly bonded, freshly mated, him in rut, Bucky in heat, he is downright possessive, and Bucky pulling him out of the room was the best way to ensure it was fuck not fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send me love <3 exams are fucking killing me and I have two left to go and then this semester will be over and I can write to my hearts content <3 - fucking finally. 
> 
> also not to worry, they have a lot more sex to come :D You can count on that.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments will be highly appreciated, seriously reading peoples feedback makes me inspired to write more and far more frequently, so comments will definitely help getting me to update more often. 
> 
> Completely and utterly unbeta-d so all mistakes are mine and mine alone.
> 
> Come chat me up on [ tumblr ](http://alwayswithatoneofsurprise.tumblr.com/)


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